Dragons 101
by Fizzlemcschnizzle
Summary: Hiccup and Toothless actually found other Night Furies. They couldn't believe it. However, Night Furies are quick to strike and slow to trust. Undaunted, they moved on to train some Vikings to ride dragons. It turns out they're no better. (Sequel to Dragon Whisperer)
1. The Dragon that Could

Hiccup and Toothless actually find other Night Furies. They can't believe it! However, Night Furies are quick to strike and slow to trust. Undaunted, they move on to train some Vikings to ride dragons. It turns out they're no better.

This story takes place a couple years after the HTTYD movie, following the events of my story, "Dragon Whisperer", but this can still be read as an independent work. I aim to keep the content pretty clean with occasional depictions of mild violence and no swearing. Well, Camicazi may swear once or twice but never in the presence of her mother; it only took one welt to learn _that_ lesson.

 **Obligatory Disclaimer:**

If you're some copyright lawyer looking for someone to bust, keep looking. I am totally gonna say that I don't own the HTTYD characters or elements. I dunno if this really is necessary, but I wrote it because everyone else does, too. Yes, bandwagon. Now, if you _are_ a lawyer, then Barf and Belch are still arguing about which one owns _me_ , so you can help them settle _that_ dispute. I'm impartial because one of them stinks real bad and the other keeps shocking me.

Are you still reading this? Gods, who _doesn't_ skip past these author notes?

* * *

 **The Dragon that Could**

Cold, hard stone scraped against sturdy, sharp claws. A solitary dragon shuffled along the rocky beach. He craned his broad, stout neck around to see spikes on his tail drawing wavy lines in the thin layer of frost. Up ahead, only a few wingspans away, a two-legged form stood with his back turned in front of a tree that marked the threshold of a small, thin forest. This island was not very large, but it still had plenty of life to enjoy, to hunt, to eat. That was not why the dragon and his companion were here, though.

No, he was not _just_ a companion. He was a friend.

A leader.

A rider.

Stalwart the Vast, his fellow land-striders called him. Well, the dragon came up with the "Stalwart" part. Stalwart had some other land-strider name that made no sense, but the dragon decided this name fit his personality. In everything he did, Stalwart gave every breath and motion a level of dedication that can only inspire others. He was a leader for his people, working tirelessly to organize their efforts and provide aid to those in need.

Not too long ago, Stalwart was one of those land-striders fighting for his life to protect his nest against the dragon raids. That was back when the dragons were all caught up in the mind snare of the demonic queen. She used them to feed her gluttonous mass, but the fish in the sea weren't good enough for her. She made them raid the land-strider nests because it amused her. It was fun to watch the dragons fight and bleed and die.

The dragons were only happy to please their queen. They loved her. They adored and revered her. They would die for her.

That is, until she was consumed in an explosive, blazing ball of hatred and arrogance.

When the dragons woke from the trance of the demon queen, they all had the same response to suddenly remembering a lifetime of humiliating servitude to such an evil creature. They fled. They fought. They grieved. They vented their anger and frustration.

Some of those newly-freed dragons drowned their grief and sorrows in the sea. Others flew wherever the wind would take them. The rest flocked back to the nest of the land-striders who took part in killing the demonic queen. It soon became apparent that while some dragons enjoyed having a rider, the sheer mass of so many hundreds of dragons could not instantly coexist with the land-striders, so those who had no rider ended up nesting on nearby islands.

One dragon in particular did something no other dragon had ever accomplished. Stalwart was very good at killing dragon's when he was at war with them, but he never felt comfortable at peace among them. It was this dragon who gave this land-strider his first flight and took him as a rider. Stalwart had to fight his reflex to brandish his shiny claw at the sight of scales, but he was getting better.

At the moment, said rider was standing only a wingspan away, in front of a tree, marking his territory. The dragon suddenly realized he was staring and flicked his head away with a casual snort. Land-striders were typically very squeamish about being seen doing things like this, probably because they make themselves more vulnerable at such times. Still, the dragon had to admire the forward-thinking of his clever rider to spread his scent before they took to the sky again.

 _{Good thinking, Stalwart! This will help us find our way back to our nest once we get what we came out here for.}_

Of course, Stalwart couldn't hear what his dragon was saying, but that didn't matter. Projecting one's thoughts can help ensure that the body language communicates.

It was a well-known fact that land-striders have always been deaf to dragons. In theory, countless generations ago, they could all hear thought projections, but forgot how as they learned to think worth their lips and project thoughts on animal hide. Though they could learn to hear, it took time and concentrated effort to condition their minds to hear dragons. Very few actually have and Stalwart was not one of them.

Stalwart finished marking his territory and turned around, moving his lips to make those guttural, sing-song noises these land-striders use to communicate. What significance the fluctuations and nuances those sounds had went over the dragon's head. However, these creatures use this to focus the projections of their thoughts. Though they are deaf to dragons, it is only when they think with their lips that they actually project. It's all muddy and blurry most times compared to what a dragon projects, but with some help from his offspring, Stalwart has learned to focus and better define his projections when he speaks.

Even though Stalwart was not among the few land-striders who could receive projected thoughts, the dragon could pick up amusement from him as he projected this message: _{Trust me, Skullcrusher, your back is no territory you want me to mark.}_

The thoughts were stretched out and fragmented, but still there. Even with his improvements, Stalwart, along with all other land-striders, think in such strange ways. Dragons communicate with very discreet, defined, and obvious thoughts. Hearing a projected thought from another dragon was like getting hit by a rock. There is no doubt what it is that hit you and it is clearly defined.

On the other wing, when land-striders project thoughts, it's almost like getting splashed with water. The thoughts flow and stretch and divide. Yet, with their strange minds, they can take those scattered droplets of thought and, instead of gathering them together, take them and make them grow. Each little thought can be absorbed, enhanced, embellished, improved, and modified. It is a strange talent that these strange creatures have. Though dragons don't have such an amusing talent, Skullcrusher has learned to garner the gist of what a land-strider is saying.

Skullcrusher gave a snort as he extended a wing out toward the sea and flicked the tip indicatively. Stalwart knew they needed to go. For two days, they have been tracking a very special pair. They were the ones who freed Skullcrusher and the other dragons from the snare of the demonic queen. Skullcrusher knew that the black dragon, Toothless, could take care of himself. It was his rider, which the dragon had named Firefly, that was the main concern. Firefly had earned his name as one who mystifies and seemingly enchants dragons. He has earned the respect of all the dragons in his nest a thousand times over by helping Toothless destroy the demonic queen, but he always had this habit of doing silly things that put himself and his dragon at great risk.

 _{Skullcrusher, are they close? Can you smell them? Or sense them or whatever you dragons do?}_

Skullcrusher made eye contact with his rider and nodded - a gesture he quickly learned to communicate with land-striders. Toothless and Firefly were here not too long ago. Their scent was strong. Skullcrusher could almost feel the mental hum of Toothless out there, somewhere. He could hear projected thoughts from farther away than most other dragons, but he couldn't even come close to comparing to Toothless, who had all those sensor lobes around the back of his head that amplified his range.

Stalwart jumped up onto the dragon's back and the two set off into the sky to find their charge. As they flew along, clear skies gave way to dark clouds that seemed to absorb the light of the moon. The icy mists soon made the rider uncomfortable, even under all his layers of hide and fur. Skullcrusher, though, enjoyed the deep breaths of freezing air through his large nostrils. The scent was becoming stronger. He could feel the mental hum of Toothless more clearly with each beat of the wings.

The deafening crack of thunder sounded from somewhere ahead. Skullcrusher flicked his head to the side to glance up at his rider, whose emotional hum and forward lean was all the dragon needed. Now was not the time for uncertainty. They couldn't turn back. Not now.

 _We're so close!_

A flash of blue-white light assaulted their eyes, even through the clouds beneath them, and a loud crack followed almost immediately afterward. Stalwart leaned forward and the two dove down through the black clouds and into the dark air beneath.

Toothless was down there. His thought projections were strong. Even Firefly's weaker hum could be heard as well. They were scared, frightened, and angry, all at once. They were definitely fighting for their lives.

As he dove a little lower, Skullcrusher could see what was attacking them. It would have been almost invisible in the dark were it not for tiny arcs of lightning zapping between the spines along its back and tail. From nose to tail and wingtip to wingtip, it was very similar in size and proportions to Toothless with the exception that it had no forelegs. Skullcrusher had seen such dragons before, way back in the demonic queen's nest, before Toothless was ensnared and joined them. Lightning dragons were never more than purple-scaled sacks of hatred and contempt. This must be what was channeling all this lightning.

Skullcrusher veered off toward the lightning dragon, maintaining his altitude above. Stalwart voiced his agreement as he leaned into the turn. They had the element of surprise. It - no, the tone of the dragon's projected hum had a feminine quality to it - would not even know what hit her. Skullcrusher tried to silence his own thought projections so he wouldn't give away his advantage.

As he folded his wings to dive at the enemy, his rider mumbled something, projecting, _{I wonder how many steps lead up to the Great Hall?}_

Skullcrusher glanced back at his rider. _Stalwart, you devious warrior!_

It was at times like this that the land-strider really amazed Skullcrusher. The biped on his back could not hear the projected thoughts of a dragon if his life depended on it, but his insight into a situation and his perception of those around him sometimes make it seem like he could pull the thoughts right out of a creature's mind. Focusing on such a meaningless problem would keep his mind so busy his projections would be almost non-existent.

Skullcrusher focused on his memories of walking around and on those steps, trying to recall how many there were. It was a lot, to be sure. Some land-striders would be tired out just by walking up the steps. They often ran up and down to condition their bodies. It wasn't as many as the trees in the forest, but more than the number of dragons on the island for sure. Maybe it was less than the number of land-striders on the island, but not by much.

The enemy craned her neck around to screech at Skullcrusher just before impact, but it was too late. Skullcrusher could feel the carapace plates on his underside shift as they absorbed the shock of the impact. Trapped within the grasp of his claws, the enemy could do nothing to avoid her fate. She roared in anger, but with her wings pinned in tight, there was only one direction to go.

Wind whistled past them as they plummeted toward the ground. Skullcrusher kept the tips of his wings extended ever-so-slightly to control his descent against the thrashing of the enemy held in her scaly cage. He wanted to be sure she would land beneath him and his rider would stay above and not the other way around. Stalwart was tough, but still only a land-strider.

Just before slamming into the stony ground, Skullcrusher extended his wings to reduce the impact, mainly out of consideration for his rider. Fortunately, Stalwart knew to lean back. It had taken only one hard landing when he was leaning forward to learn a very important lesson. How these land-striders ended up with such a major design flaw that left their most sensitive organs exposed to the cold were it not for their animal coverings, that would always be one of life's great mysteries. They were even placed in a most inconvenient spot for creatures that rely solely on their legs to move about. It was especially inconvenient for dragon riders.

A cloud of snow billowed up on impact. Stalwart slid off the dragon's side and landed in a crouch with his large shiny claw pulled out and ready for action. Both rider and dragon were unsure of what to do, though. Toothless and Firefly were nearby, but they seemed to be hurt. There were a couple other black dragons of the same species as Toothless. One of them appeared to be dead.

Skullcrusher's attention was jolted back to his enemy as a jolt of lightning arced through him. It was weak, though. She was quite expended, but the shock was enough to cause Skullcrusher to jump back without giving his body permission to do so and he felt a tingling sensation along his entire lower side.

The enemy half-limped and half flew away. Even in the dark, crimson droplets could be seen splattered on the snow. The enemy had been hurt by more than just the fall. She would not get far before Skullcrusher could claim vengeance for her attack on his friends.

However, his heart plummeted to his stomach as he realized where she was flying off to - it wasn't that far away. With one swift landing, Toothless' rider, the one who saved the dragons, the precious little Firefly, was laid out on his back. An instant later, his body was clutched in the jaws of the enemy. With one leap and a flap of her wings, the two went airborne.

Stalwart jumped on his dragon's back faster than he ever had before. His roaring for them to take off and give pursuit was unnecessary as the two were quite like-minded in what course of action was needed. Skullcrusher leaped into the air, beating his wings as hard as he could. However, the enemy was faster. She ascended up toward the stormy clouds, where her lightning could be restored. Skullcrusher was falling behind despite his best effort.

As he beat his wings with all his might, he listened for anything coming from Firefly. Any suggestion or clue or command. That little land-strider's ability to focusing his thought projections so that the dragons could clearly understand him has been improving recently. He was starting to project thoughts as clear as if he were a dragon and without having to move his lips. He must have some idea to get himself out of this situation.

Firefly was clever. Firefly was devious. Firefly was never without an unexpected idea to solve any problem for which his insubstantial stature alone was insufficient. Maybe he had some instructions to give.

Even when clenched in the maw of a dragon that was spitting mad.

Skullcrusher groaned at what he heard, though. Firefly's emotional hum was radiating regret and defeat. He acknowledged that he was completely powerless and had nothing to live for. He begged the enemy to be merciful and grant him a quick death. He pleaded to let his own death spare Toothless' life.

Skullcrusher howled his frustration.

 _Firefly_ cannot _die!_

 _This cannot be the end!_

This is not the way Firefly would respond to _any_ situation. He was always calm and collected. He had this incredible ability to reign in his emotions and analyze a situation. Skullcrusher had seen images and memories projected from the other dragons showcasing Firefly's control over himself. He had stared down Toothless on that first day they met, even when pinned against a rock, under the dragon's paw, completely powerless to escape. When Toothless was taken by Firefly's fellow land-striders to lead them to the demonic queen's nest, Firefly showed such determination when he released all the caged dragons at his nest. He had no reason to expect cooperation from them, yet he approached them without fear and persuaded them to help through sheer force of will.

This was not a creature who would give up and beg for death!

Suddenly, the enemy convulsed and twitched for an instant. She barely started to screech in pain before going completely limp. Her wings flailed aimlessly, tossed by the wind as she started to fall. Stalwart leaned as they angled to intercept.

Skullcrusher tucked his wings in, leaving just enough extended to control his descent. He could tell that Stalwart had a plan and so positioned him against the falling enemy that still held Firefly clutched in her jaws. Grunting could be heard from above. The ground was approaching fast but Skullcrusher would not extend his wings until Stalwart told him to do so.

Finally, Stalwart straightened in his saddle and roared for Skullcrusher to land. He flared his wings in the cloud of snow that was kicked up by the falling enemy's impact. The wind nearly tore his wings right out, but he held himself together and managed to bleed off enough speed that their landing wasn't too hard.

Stalwart cried out as he forgot to lean back. Skullcrusher couldn't help but chortle in amusement at this most unfortunate design defect these land-striders had.

The dragon listened for anything as he cautiously walked toward Toothless. The black dragon would want to be with Firefly and had every right to spend time with him. Firefly was in bad condition, that much was clear. The other black dragon - the one that was still alive - bolted off toward the enemy, presumably to make sure she was thoroughly dead. Skullcrusher could hear Toothless projecting his concern for his rider, asking how he was, but had no answer.

However, as they reached Toothless, Firefly's thought projections could be heard.

 _{I'm alive, friends. I'm alive for now.}_

Both dragons let out a deep sigh of relief. Skullcrusher owed a lot to Firefly for his past deeds and had no doubt that Toothless would simply go insane if he lost his rider. Those two had such a close bond that it would be an insult to compare it to anything else. Firefly clearly had been badly hurt, even before he was clamped in the enemy's jaws, but he was always pretty durable for his size.

For now, he was alive. That would have to be good enough.


	2. The Father that Could

**The Father that Could**

* * *

Stoick Haddock, father of Hiccup Haddock III, stared down at his only son and permitted a single tear to roll down his cheek. The boy was in terrible condition if the gasps as he was gently handled were anything to go by. Blood was seeping out of a dozen puncture wounds where the Skrill's teeth had sunken in. A couple lacerations marked where claws raked his chest, but at least those weren't bleeding. On top of all that, he had a couple broken ribs and his skin was a blue shade of pale. He was alive and conscious, but not entirely "there".

The father groaned. _Why must the boy be so reckless? Why can't he just behave and look out for himself for once?_

Stoick the Vast, chief of the Hairy Hooligan tribe, glanced down at Toothless, who whined and growled as he scrabbled at the ground with only his front-right paw and right wing. The dragon must have been hit by that Skrill's lightning, which would explain why his left wing and other three legs weren't working. He should recover within a week if memories of Vikings exposed to a Skrill attack transfer to dragons.

Casting a glance back at Toothless, the chief said, "Don't hurt yourself. You can't help him in your state. I'll get Hiccup all set up in a cave I saw nearby and come back for you. You'll be fine for now, right?"

Toothless barked and impatiently flicked his head as if to say, "Yes, of course. Go now! Go!"

Stoick paused. The father didn't want to separate Hiccup from his dragon as he recognized the emotional agony that would cause. However, the chief knew they would be more secure in the cave and started walking that way. The father was a kind and gentle man who cared deeply for his own, but has always been too hesitant and concerned to be of much use. Well, that was what the chief always said as he fought to protect his tribe and quell disputes. The two almost never got along and they rarely agreed on anything. It was a constant battle Stoick always imagined in his mind between his fatherly and chiefly roles.

Sixteen years ago, when Stoick's wife was taken by the dragons, the father died on the inside. His confidence flew away with his beloved Val. He could never maintain his composure and was always plagued by doubt and fear. All he had left was a runty little boy who never took anything seriously.

However, the chief was unaffected. He had his village to look after. He took the helm while the father cowered underdeck. The chief was confident. The chief was focused. The chief was undaunted.

The chief was needed.

Fortunately, the father was not so naive that he didn't recognize his own shortcomings and allowed the chief to take command over this situation. Hiccup needed to warm up. That was most critical. There was no point in bandaging up an icicle.

The chief ignored Hiccup's barely-audible mumblings about going back for Toothless. The dragon would be fine until Stoick could fetch him after he found that cave and got a fire roaring.

 _Speaking of which…_

"Skullcrusher."

The dragon following behind leaped forward and fixed the chief with a stare.

"We need fire. Not dragon fire, but Viking fire. Can you find some wood? Look for dead branches and bring them to me."

With a huff, the dragon spun about and dashed toward the treeline. The cracking of dry timber could be heard, which was encouraging because it wasn't the sound of green wood tearing or rotten wood crumbling.

In the darkness of night, the air was definitely freezing, as evidenced by the dusting of snow that clung to the rock, but Fall had hardly just begun. Winter hadn't hit, yet, and the air would warm up when the sun rises in the sky. With the wind and misting of rain, Stoick couldn't get to the cave too soon, but he knew better than to run. Taking the risk of dropping Hiccup and making his injuries even worse was not worth any possible gain. Besides, with the boy pressed against Stoick's torso, under the heavy fur coat, he was slowly warming up. It was just as well as warming up too fast could shock his body and kill him.

Stoick eyed the Night Fury at the mouth of the cave with wary distrust. Hiccup had said that he was friendly, but the way he stared so intently was unsettling. At least the beast backed away from the cave's entrance as Stoick approached, keeping several paces between them.

The mouth of the cave was about five paces wide and opened up into a cavern swallowed by darkness. Skullcrusher came bounding up with some medium-sized sticks in his mouth. He had seen fires before and did a good job figuring out what made good firewood. The chief rummaged through the dragon's saddlebag to find a torch he always carried with him. The wick was dry, but Skullcrusher knew the drill. He pooled some fuel in his mouth to soak the torch wad and a small puff set it alight.

With some appreciable light, the chief turned to Skullcrusher and said, "That's enough wood for now. Thank you. Could I ask one more favor?"

The dragon huffed and took a half step forward. It was a rhetorical question, really, but the chief always made a point to be courteous to his fellow warriors who would risk life and limb to fight at his side.

"I need to put Hiccup down to build a fire. Can you… help me keep him warm?"

 _Odin, please let this dragon understand what I'm saying._

Stoick breathed a sigh of relief as the dragon flopped down onto his side and held a wing up. He set Hiccup down on top of his coat. The cold instantly made Stoick's skin crawl, but that was inconsequential. Between the coat and the warm dragonhide, Hiccup would slowly lose that deathly pallor.

As he was about to turn away, the father paused at a voice he longed to hear. It was faint and weak, but the stillness of the cave allowed it to be heard. "Th-th-th-thankssss... D-d-d-dad-d... and Sk-k-kull."

The chief turned back to the task at hand, grabbing his ax and shield that were fastened to his dragon's saddle – the ax to chop the wood and the shield to carry the pieces. The Night Fury, still looming about, snarled at the sight of the ax, but suddenly glanced at Skullcrusher and the snarling softened.

The chief gave a glance to his dragon and said, "Thanks for putting in the good word for me."

With enough wood carved up to get a hot fire going, he gently picked up Hiccup and had his dragon light the fire. It jumped into dancing flames as he grabbed a yak wool blanket out of the saddle bag for some extra insulation and laid Hiccup down again.

"Looks like you were right, son. Carrying around a blanket can be very handy when you're out and about."

Stoick quickly set about finding rocks he could use to make a heat wall. The fire was built against the wall of the cave, but he wanted to establish a semicircle around it to reflect the heat better. He wanted to keep the fire small in girth, but built up tall and hot. As he worked, he heard the heir talking as he started to warm up. His voice was weak, but still audible.

"N-n-ooo… You were right-t-t, D-dad." Hiccup paused for breath and closed his eyes. Just as Stoick thought he drifted to sleep, he spoke up again. "Y-y-you were right-t-t about ev-v-v-rything."

A smile briefly flashed across the chief's face. "I get that, sometimes, but people are usually in even worse condition before making such an admission."

Hiccup coughed as he wheezed out a laugh. The father cringed at the sight, but the chief couldn't help but smile.

"D-d-ad, I mean... it-t. I thought-t I could reach out... t-t-t-o them."

"Yup."

"It-t was r-reckless."

"I know."

"How d-did you know-w to look f-for me?"

Stoick fixed his son with a flat stare. "Yes, Hiccup is your name, right? A bit of a troublemaker if memory serves. I believe we've met before."

Hiccup grinned and closed his eyes. Stoick found a flat slab of stone to set on top of the wall he built. With an established pattern of air flowing in through the gaps between the stones and out through the opening, the fire almost looked like a forge, blasting out waves of heat. Hiccup fell silent for a while, probably asleep. After a while, he stirred with a pained groan and tried to take off the hide draped over him, but grunted in pain, probably because of the broken ribs.

"Getting warm?"

 _That can't be right. He's probably taking it off so it doesn't block the heat from the fire._

"You're getting cold," Hiccup wheezed out.

Stoick leaned over to feel Hiccup. He was warming up, nestled between a roaring fire and Skullcrusher. His skin color had returned back to the land of the living, at least.

"You were right, Dad, about me killing dragons. Remember, two years ago, when you put me in dragon training before the nest hunt? I said-"

"I can't kill dragons." The father finished his son's sentence with a smile. "But I never imagined…"

"You remember your response?"

The father scratched his head. "Can't say I do."

"But you _will_ kill dragons. You said it so matter-of-factly. I was trying to pour out my heart, to tell you what I realized I stood for. I guess the joke was on me."

"So, the Skrill..."

The Night Fury snarled and Stoick instinctively grabbed his shield and ax. They gave a measured glance at each other and settled back down.

Hiccup sighed. "I had her all strung along, thinking that I was completely defeated and resigned to my fate. Dragons don't normally suspect deception. They're intelligent, yeah, but still very straightforward, so-"

"Knife through the roof of its mouth. Brilliant! That's my boy!" The chief clasped his hands together excitedly and fixed Hiccup with a broad grin. "I'm so proud of you!"

"DA-"

That was all Hiccup got out before gasping in pain from the effort he put into his outburst.

After a coughing fit subsided, he caught his breath again and said, "Is that the only thing that impresses you? Killing things?"

"Hiccup, I only meant-"

"Until I-" Hiccup coughed and wheezed.

"Easy there, Son. Just rest."

Hiccup groaned. "No." He waited until another coughing fit passed. "Until I've killed something, I've always been a disappointment. Hiccup the weak. Hiccup the useless."

"Hiccup-"

"The tripping hazard! Another coughing fit. "There's only three times you've ever said you were proud of something I've done: when you thought I was going to kill Hookfang in dragon training, just before I killed the Red Death, and after I killed-"

Another coughing fit cut him off.

"The Skrill, yes," Stoick finished for his son. "Who would have thought my little Hiccup would accomplish so much at such a young age. That doesn't mean I'm not upset about how you just up and left without me even knowing. Still, the way you handled that Skrill in your condition was very impressive."

"Is that the _only_ thing you respect?!" Hiccup spat out. He coughed and groaned, but gathered himself again. "Is there no way to impress you without bathing in blood?"

Hiccup's tirade came out as a soft whimper, but Stoick was sure he would be shouting by now if he had the strength to do so. Silence reigned for an indeterminable span of time as both father and son stared at the fire. The heat lapped out at them, warming their bodies, but not their hearts. The silence was eventually broken by a deep rumble in Skullcrusher's throat.

The father just barely made out his son mumbling, "Yeah, you're right, Skull. I… Thanks."

Before he could ask what private conversation the two were having, Hiccup said, "Sorry, Dad."

"Don't..."

Again, Stoick felt conflicted. The chief held his peace. The father didn't know what to say. He fetched a water skin from Skullcrusher's saddlebag and helped his son drink.

After slowly drinking a bit, Hiccup smiled sadly and said, "Thanks, Dad. For everything. We'd be dead if you and Skull hadn't saved us. I caused all this and almost got Toothless killed." He gave a half-hearted smile. "All along, really, I was just setting us up so you could make a heroic entrance and save me from becoming a chew toy. See how I'm always thinking about you?"

That snarky comment only showed just how broken Hiccup felt on the inside. The father didn't know what to say. He wanted to comfort his son and be the father he could never bring himself to be. He knew his son was pouring out his heart, releasing a lot of resentment that was held back a long time. Hiccup's physical condition had broken down his spirit. The barrier he had constructed in his mind had been broken down along with his body.

The chief wanted to go fetch the boy's dragon. Maybe he just needed a moment alone with his thoughts, anyway.

"I've seen others suffer worse, including death." Why the chief allowed the father to continue running his mouth was a mystery. "A little chill, some broken ribs, and some lacerations won't kill you. We Haddocks are tough as nails after all."

Stoick stood up to feed the fire. He noticed the other Night Fury had settled down off to the side. The dragon glared and curled his lips in a soft snarl when Stoick grabbed the ax to cut some more wood to size, but that was it.

Hiccup mumbled nonchalantly, "Actually the Skrill didn't give me anything more than these tooth marks." His tone suddenly turned dark and angry. "She didn't want to _kill_ me. Not yet, at least, the devious, evil-" Another cough interrupted him. "She was holding me gently so I could survive long enough to use me to torment Toothless. She wanted to stash me somewhere to take care of Firebrand, then taunt Toothless. Drive him mad by slowly breaking my bones and killing me in front of him."

Stoick's eyes narrowed at a realization. "Then if the Skrill didn't break your ribs and give you that nasty gash..." The gash along his abdomen really was a terrible sight, but it had already scabbed over and wasn't bleeding for the moment, thank the gods.

The father suddenly cast a quick glance at the dark form off to the side. It raised its head indignantly and growled warningly.

Stoick flicked his gaze back to his son. "Did-"

"Yes."

His blood boiled and his temples throbbed. He wanted to kill that Night Fury so bad! The dragon's growling intensified.

"Dad – Don't. Please. Yeah, Firebrand almost killed me, but the next day, he ended up saving me. So, we're even. It's... a long story."

The father didn't move. He wanted to kill that thing so badly. Death was a fitting reward for those who try to kill his son. The chief realized that he should go help Toothless get in the cave before he clawed his eyes out from the madness of being separated from his rider.

"I'm gonna get Toothless. Be back shortly."

He took a step toward the mouth of the cave, but the growling intensified. It wasn't until now that Stoick realized he had the shield in one hand and his ax in the other as he glared at the Night Fury. No, his son said his name was Firebrand.

"I guess Toothless will have to take care of himself. I'm not leaving you here with that _thing_."

The dragon jumped to all fours and roared.

"Dad!" Hiccup groaned in pain. After a coughing fit, he regained his breath and went on. "We're on good terms, now. He said he will allow you here. Skullcrusher passed that on for me."

The father still stood there with white knuckles wrapped around the handle of his ax. He trusted his son would not lie to him. Hiccup could hear the wordless exchanges of dragons. With Skullcrusher acting as a relay, the boy probably already had a lengthy discussion with the Night Fury in the blink of an eye.

"Dad... Firebrand, can we agree on a truce? Can you two agree to not attack each other?"

The father tore his gaze away from the dragon for a moment to glance at his son. "I'll agree if-"

"Yes, Firebrand agreed to keep his distance and not attack you."

The father collapsed inwardly. He wanted to claim vengeance for the sake of his son. His son wanted him to not attack because he trusted the dragon. To kill is to assert his own pride. To not kill is to trust his son. The chief realized the logical conclusion and the father glared at him.

Stoick had to get out of there. He needed some time to himself. He was confident that Hiccup would be safe under the protection of Skullcrusher. Besides, if Firebrand wanted to hurt Hiccup, he had ample opportunity recently, so there was no point in being paranoid.

"I'll go get Toothless. He'll probably want to slobber all over you before I dress your wounds."

Hiccup quirked a smile. "Best healing balm in the Archipelago."

The chief slung the shield over his shoulder. Much to the protest of the father, he left the ax by the fire, as a sign he was sure the dragon would recognize, and stalked out.

########

* * *

########

As Hiccup watched his father leave the cave, he tried to sleep. His body screamed for rest and release from the pain. The soft rumbling of Skullcrusher's breathing and the crackling of the fire were so lulling. However, Hiccup just knew he would never find rest; not when Toothless was out there, still. Too tired and hurt to do anything, his mind too turbulent to sleep, Hiccup resigned himself to brooding over these past few days.

He was in it deep and had only himself to blame. This all started when he was delivering letters to the neighboring tribes in the archipelago. Word had spread that Hooligans had dragon riders and everybody wanted some. Stoick finally gave Hiccup support and permission to begin training Vikings from other tribes to befriend dragons. An inter-tribal meeting the Vikings called "a Thing" was called to discuss a course of action. Almost all tribes in the Archipelago agreed to send students for Hiccup to train.

The thought of having willing pupils made Hiccup giddy with excitement. To confirm the time and location of training, as well as any other relevant details, Hiccup flew Toothless around to deliver the letters to the various tribes in the area. Since they were all still leery about dragons in general, Hiccup would simply land in a safe spot near the island's port, tie the letter to a hawk, and send the bird off to deliver the letter and return. The letters contained details about this training event that Hiccup called "Viking training". Well, everyone insisted on calling it " _dragon_ training", but what did they know?

 _Nothing_ , he thought to himself. _That's precisely what they know about dragons who used to have no free will. That is why they agreed to allow little, weak Hiccup to train them._

As they made their runs to the Northernmost islands, Toothless noticed something peculiar. All those sensor lobes crowning his head allowed him to hear the faintest thought projections from leagues away. Most other dragons couldn't project any farther than a shout could be heard and there were none in the area. These projections his dragon was picking up could be other Night Furies! Toothless may not be the last of his kind after all! There was no certainty, but there was a possibility.

Hiccup was absolutely ecstatic, but Toothless strongly opposed tracking the source of these projections. He knew for himself that Night Furies are very aggressive dragons. What if they attack him, or worse, his precious rider? What if it was his family? Would he even want to meet them? He was stolen away by the Red Death's dragons when he was less than a year old, but they must have surely assumed him dead. They probably wouldn't want to see him.

Hiccup also had his doubts. It really would be short-sighted to head off immediately. Viking training was coming up and Hiccup would be able to teach people to befriend dragons instead of cage and kill them. No possible reward could justify the risk of botching _that_ in any way. However, by the time the training would finish, Fall would be transitioning into intense storms that would herald the coming of Winter. Travel would be one part difficult and three parts impossible.

In the end, Hiccup's drive to investigate and Toothless's inability to deny his rider broke down any barriers and hesitation. Somehow, the Night Fury's array of sensor lobes allowed him to discern the general direction of the source - Fishlegs had said it has something to do with triangulation or something like that - so they flew Northwest. Toothless projected queries to the horizon and actually heard replies from afar.

They flew until tired, rested, then continued the next day. It was hard flying, but they actually made it. Hiccup could hardly contain himself. They found other Night Furies! Not just any, but Toothless' family!

Well, what was _left_ of it.

There were only two and both were males, so no possible mates for Toothless, but it was a start. It was _something_. Toothless absolutely refused to land until he was sure that the other Night Furies would not attack his rider, so they initially just flew circles, eying each other and exchanged stories.

Being a dragon whisperer, Hiccup was excited to take part in all that. Watching their jaws drop in shock when a human responded to their queries was also quite satisfying.

Hiccup learned that there wasn't much of Toothless' family left. His mother died when the Red Death sent a dragon raid, not to attack a village, but to attack the Night Fury nest. This raid ended up acquiring Toothless, but his mother died fighting for him. Apparently, it was not uncommon for a mother dragon to fight to the death for her children, but the father had a much less involved role.

Toothless was part of a clutch of eight. Ever since the Red Death was destroyed - In Hiccup's mind, saying 'it was destroyed instead of 'I killed her' helped him justify what he did that day - two of the females had flown off to gods-know-where to make their own mark. Aside from them, only Toothless and his one brother, which Hiccup had ended up naming Firebrand, still lived.

The other four died to Skrill. Hiccup had learned, to his great dismay, that dragons were not too different from Vikings. There has been a blood feud between Night Furies and Skrill for longer than anyone knows and for reasons nobody understands anymore. For that reason, both species were quite rare because they've always been too busy hunting each other down instead of simply enjoying life for the grand adventure it was.

The two Night Furies here were actually more receptive than Hiccup or Toothless dared to hope. Well, Toothless' father, which Hiccup named "Tolerant", warmed up to the duo after a while. He even allowed the rider to approach and touch him. They exchanged what Hiccup was starting to call telepathic pleasantries, where the duo shared about Toothless' enslavement to the Red Death, getting shot down, their first meeting, and all the other details up until the present. After all, that was how dragons got to know each other - not by exchanging names or titles, but by sharing their past deeds.

It was amazing how much ground they covered in just that one night.

Firebrand, though, would not accept Hiccup. Might makes right in a dragon's eyes and, thus, he saw Hiccup as an unwanted pest. Feeling the pressure to smooth things out for Toothless, Hiccup challenged the fiery-tempered dragon to a game that all dragons particularly enjoyed, which was essentially a duel that would end either at first blood or when a dragon was forced to yield.

Tolerant was amused. Firebrand was excited. Needless to say, Toothless strongly objected.

Hiccup really impressed himself. Firebrand was larger and stronger than Toothless, but the rider was quick and cunning. Dragons were strangers to deception, so Hiccup leveraged that to his advantage by projecting thoughts that threw off and confused Firebrand. Hiccup and Toothless had often play-fought each other, so he was very familiar with what the Night Fury could do. He forced Firebrand to retreat from jabs of his sword and flung sand from a small sack tied around his wrist to distract and blind the dragon.

It was a close call and he almost lost his fingers for it, but he managed to swing up onto Firebrand's back. From there, he dug his fingertips into a soft spot on the upper part of the neck that, as he observed with Toothless in the past, caused him to instinctively roll over, setting him up to scratch the "knock-out spot" at the base of his lower jawline. As with any dragon, Firebrand's mind was overloaded with a calm sort of bliss and his whole body slumped bonelessly to the ground.

That was when Hiccup really messed up. He pulled out his knife and idly skittered the tip along the scales, pondering what to do. He hadn't really thought this far ahead. Poking just in front of the shoulder would miss any major arteries and would not impair anything. The pain would dissipate very quickly. All he needed to do was push the tip in a little – just the tiniest little bit – to draw some blood. Then he would win this little game, Firebrand would be taught a lesson to respect the little rider, and things would go more smoothly between Toothless and his brother.

In retrospect, he really shouldn't have been surprised how _that_ ended. He just stood there, trembling like an idiot, trying to heed Toothless' anxious howling. He froze until a great weight slammed into his side. Sprawled out on his back, the claws wrapped around his torso and dug in to lift him up and slam him back down to the ground, breaking two of his ribs in the process. As if that wasn't enough, a single swipe ripped down his sternum to tear some stripes in the flesh.

That was only the beginning of what Firebrand wanted to do. He simply snapped and ignored the rider's cries of "I yield!" and "Please don't kill me!" Victory through first blood wasn't enough for him. He felt humiliated and wanted to make a statement. He wanted more than just blood. He wanted to kill.

That was when Toothless leaped into Firebrand and the two fought.

That was when the Skrill attacked.

That was when Hiccup found himself in Tolerant's clutches, carried away from Toothless, who was zapped by the Skrill's lightning and unable to fly or even walk.

That was when Toothless almost died.

Hiccup cried and wailed as Tolerant flew him away, helplessly watching his best friend shrink into the distance. He was so sure he would never see Toothless again. The Skrill took off to give chase and Hiccup was so sure he was dead meat.

"Toothless!"

Hiccup meant to shout it, but it came out as a whimper as he snapped his attention back to the present. His dragon was using his one good leg and wing on his right side to move in tempo with the stride of Stoick, who was braced under the left wing. The two worked in tandem as if shuffling through a three-legged race to get over to Hiccup with the dragon's hindquarters simply dragging along the ground.

Toothless suddenly looked so small and frail. He wasn't as massive as a Monstrous Nightmare or even a Nadder, but from nose to tail and wingtip to wingtip, he could take up almost as much space as any other dragon. His torso, from the base of his neck to the start of his tail, was as long as Hiccup was tall, but he seemed so small when draped around Stoick's shoulders. Granted, Stoick was a bear of a man who could pin down an actual adult grizzly bear.

 _Still, this is the offspring of lightning and death! He shouldn't look small, limp, and helpless!_

Hiccup cringed at the harm his foolishness caused his dragon. The poor thing almost died! The lightning bolt from the Skrill went straight for his artificial tail fin. It probably saved his life, though, as the lightning may have otherwise hit him elsewhere and stopped his heart or lungs from working instead of his legs and wings. They simply had no warning of the attack and Hiccup blamed only himself for that. It was he who insisted in getting everyone worked up about dueling Firebrand and caused a scene.

Toothless must have picked up on his rider's remorse and pity because he fixed the boy with a deathly glare and snarled at him. Stoick instinctively dropped the dragon as he ducked and took a quick step to the side, glancing between the dragon and his rider. Though Stoick still responded to a lifetime of dragon-fighting instinct, Hiccup knew Toothless would never harm him, but that just gave the dragon license to express himself in ways other dragons would never dare for fear of scaring their riders or communicating the wrong message.

Hiccup met his dragon's gaze for a moment and lowered his eyes. That little sign of submission communicated more to his best friend than any words or telepathic projections ever could.

Toothless was right. The rider couldn't hear any projected thoughts from his dragon without contact, but the eyes said it all.

 _Stop focusing on how much worse it could have been. Stop dwelling on remorse._

As he ducked under the wing again to scoop up Toothless, Stoick casually said, "Damn beast was a third of the way here when I found him." He set the dragon down next to Hiccup, in the spot Skullcrusher had just vacated. "Not bad, considering he was missing four of his six limbs."

Hiccup quirked a smile as his dragon pawed at the ground with his one good leg and wing, twisting around to curl around him. "Eight, if you wanna be technical. His tail is non-functional, but he can use his chin to worm his way along."

Stoick chuckled. "Like rider, like dragon."

Toothless set into licking his rider's multiple wounds with gusto. Hiccup rested a hand on the side of his dragon's neck. Through that contact, he could feel the overwhelming sense of concern pouring out, but Toothless had nothing to say at the moment.

He suddenly noticed that all of his clothing had been removed. In retrospect, it was quite necessary for Stoick to do that as a wet Viking is a dead Viking. Hiccup knew he would have frozen to death before the fire and Skullcrusher could have warmed him up, but he had always been a bit squeamish about such things. Toothless was licking all the lacerations from where the Skrill's teeth sunk into his torso and legs. Each stroke of the tongue drew out a pained gasp, but left behind a soothing numbness in its wake that would also protect against infection. However, one of the puncture marks from the Skrill's teeth drew the tongue a little too close for comfort to a certain area.

Hiccup scrunched his eyes shut. "Gods, this is kinda humiliating."

Toothless' projections sounded out in his mind which, through mechanics beyond his comprehension, could naturally form voiceless sentences he could almost imagine his dragon was speaking.

 _{Don't worry, my precious Firefly. Dragons don't lick for the same reason as you land-striders. I won't do with my tongue what some land-striders do with theirs.}_

"Toothless," Hiccup deadpanned. "I'm pretty sure I don't even want to know-"

 _{Land-striders' projections are muddy and scattered, but quite loud when they mate. I assure you I will not treat you the way they treat each other."_

"Tooth!" was all Hiccup got out before his torso seized around his broken ribs and he groaned from the exertion of his outburst. The dragon's humored warbling and crooning slid into a whine as he continued licking at the lacerations. Hiccup thanked the gods that Toothless was being very, _very_ delicate with the gash on his chest. It helped keep his agonized cries of pain down to a loud whimper.

Both dragon and rider were startled at the sound of an ax biting into wood from somewhere past the mouth of the cave. Hiccup concluded his father must be blowing off some steam on a tree. Who could blame him for being a little off-kilter after finding his own son on the brink of death on some hair-brained adventure? In retrospect, Hiccup felt regret for what he had said to his father. He really vented a lot on the very man who flew all this way just to help. Well, help and lecture about responsibility to his tribe and accepting a boring life confined to a little island.

Hiccup groaned when the chopping sound stopped, only to be replaced with Stoick's excessively loud bellows.

"What is _wrong_ with you, Firebrand?! What kind of coward attacks Hiccup?! He's just a _boy_! There is no honor in harming someone weaker than you, but I guess dignity is _beneath_ you!"

Snarling retorted from outside. Firebrand was no longer in the cave. Hiccup could feel _exactly_ where this was going as his father continued to shout out his anger.

"Oh, yes, I know what that snort and flick of the head means. Had a Night Fury under my roof for two years. The only reason I haven't cut off your head is because Hiccup begged me to spare you. If you were trying to impress someone by bullying one smaller than you, then you failed miserably! I piss on your pride, you stupid mutt!"

Snarling turned into a roar and Hiccup heard grunting and growling from both Stoick and Firebrand. He only hoped that they weren't actually trying to kill each other because he certainly wasn't in any condition to intervene, nor was Toothless. However, judging by Skullcrusher's lack of intervention as he stood at the mouth of the cave, watching, Hiccup felt some comfort that they would probably survive this encounter.

Hiccup sighed. "I should do something about this."

A large, scaly head rested lightly on his chest. Hiccup frowned at his dragon, who said nothing, but was definitely not in agreement with his rider going anywhere.

"Toothless, I caused this. I'm going to hurt myself trying to get up if you try to stop me."

Toothless whined. _{You will hurt yourself if you get up, anyway. I don't want you to go. I cannot go with you. I can barely crawl with one paw and one wing!}_

"C'mon. I need to do _something_ about this."

The whining continued and the scaly head remained. Hiccup sighed in defeat and went completely slack. Toothless crooned and purred in victorious contentment... until Hiccup sent his dragon into a blissful stupor with a sneaky scratch to the base of his jawline. The rider yelped in pain as he quickly shifted to the side so the head wouldn't come down on his broken ribs. Rolling over to his knees was absolute agony. Every movement felt like fire and coals in his gut.

As he reached for the fur coat that his father left behind, he heard Toothless growl from right next to him.

"Yeah, yeah, I don't fight fair, you big bully. Now, hold still. Standing up will be the hardest part."

The Night Fury groaned and whined as Hiccup leaned on his head to slowly stand up. Limping onward wasn't too bad if he hunched over, but he still felt pain stab from every step. He felt tired and empty, but he could not leave this alone.

After only a few steps, Skullcrusher appeared at his side, offering his snout as support. Hiccup leaned heavily and a wing came around for his other arm to lean on.

As he limped onward, he said, "Toothless is so gonna kill you for not stopping me."

An indignant huff was Skullcrusher's only response.

From outside, the sounds of the ongoing fight drifted in, complete with grunting, snarling, shouting, and roaring - from both parties. A metallic clang, followed immediately by a loud, pained yelp that transitioned into a snarl signaled a shield that made contact with a snout. Hiccup figured that must have been Stoick's new Gronckle iron shield. The man loved the thing so much as it was larger, lighter, and stronger than the standard wooden shields.

As Hiccup cleared the mouth of the cave, he saw the pink light of dawn rippling across the underside of the parting storm clouds in a breathtaking, awe-inspiring, and mesmerizing sight. Birds chirped and flitted among the trees all around. Waves crashed against a pebbled beach not too far away and the red leaves spotted the green forest as they started to change color.

Stoick's ax was embedded deep in the trunk of a nearby tree and his shield was still wobbling from having been flung out of his grasp. Firebrand was trying to crush him against the ground. However, the dragon was on his back and Stoick had large arms wrapped around the dragon's neck with something spanning his hands to increase the pressure. The two separated and sprung up into a crouch.

As Hiccup cleared the last couple steps to his father, he stumbled forward. Fortunately, he was caught.

"Hiccup! What are you doing outside?!"

"Love… you… too," Hiccup squeezed out between painful pants of air.

Firebrand shifted around Stoick, who shifted himself around to stay between the Night Fury and Hiccup.

"Dad... please... can we just stop... fighting? Firebrand? Please?"

Stoick relaxed his stance as the growling quieted. Little trickles of blood were seeping out of some tears and scrapes in his arms. Firebrand had a light trickle of blood dribbling out of his nose and he was hacking through some deep breaths, recovering from the stranglehold. Hiccup groaned. Such senseless violence was _exactly_ what he had been trying to avoid for the past few days. He wanted so desperately to show the dragons that this sort of behavior was simply asinine. Apparently, Vikings were just as hopeless.

In an unexpected move, Firebrand leaped to the side, grabbed the Gronckle iron shield in his maw, and flicked it toward Stoick, where it skittered to a stop at his feet and wobbled around before finally settling down. There was silence for a long moment, then the large Viking suddenly broke out into laughter.

As the laughing fit subsided, Stoick said, "Don't worry, son. Firebrand and I were just getting to know each other a little better. He's not too bad, after all."

Hiccup quirked a questioning eyebrow at the Night Fury, who just shook his head and huffed in a draconic equivalent of an indifferent shrug.

As Stoick carried his son back into the cave, he kicked at the shield. "I think I found a flaw."

Hiccup said, "Gobber said he tested the strength of the rivets by hanging the handle from a rafter and jumping up and down on the shield."

"Firebrand is a strong dragon. Nearly tore my arm off. Definitely bigger than Toothless. Impressive leg strength."

Hiccup quirked a smile, which slid into a frown in the awkward silence that followed. After a while, he said, "Dad, I'm sorry I-"

"You're right."

Hiccup choked on his tongue as he looked up at his father.

"You're right, son," Stoick continued. "I was afraid to show any praise for anything that didn't fit my own mold and that was in error. I always wanted you to be big, strong, and brave. I could never bring myself to accept anything else. Instead of what I hoped for, you turned out to be inventive, brilliant, manipulative, and dangerous."

"Is that a compliment or an insult?"

There was a brief silence, then Stoick said, "Yes. Oh! I almost forgot crazy."

"Gee," Hiccup dryly said. "I'm so... flattered."

"Was that sarcasm, or did you mean that?"

"Yes."

Hiccup could feel his father's chest heave in laughter.

After an uncomfortable silence that followed, Hiccup said, "You probably want to hear how I got into this situation-"

"Tomorrow. Or sometime when you're feeling better. You'll probably have to work through a fever real soon. I'm a patient old warhorse. I can wait."

Hiccup let out a sigh. He felt so empty.

"Dad..."

He paused until his father looked down at him. "Thanks... for everything. For coming out here. For saving Toothless and me. We would be toast without you."

"Nonsense!" Stoick declared with confidence. "Firebrand had it all under control."

"Do you really believe that, or is that just wishful thinking?"

Silence reigned for a few paces.

"Yes."

Hiccup laughed until he groaned from the pain. Up ahead, Toothless was switching between whining and snarling. He was far from pleased at this stunt Hiccup had pulled.

Stoick said, "It seems Toothless, umm..."

"Yep. It was a pleasure to know you, sir. I'll see you in Valhalla."

* * *

 **A/N:** So, there's certain territory I don't even want to _acknowledge_ in my writing. If you feel that Toothless ventured into such territory, I apologize, but I didn't feel the need to cut it out. Vikings are a bit less sensitive to what you and I find awkward – dragons even more-so. As a result, the scaly beasts can't help but be humored by the strange standards of those fleshy bipeds. I figured it was on _par_ with Gobber's comments about his undies in the movie, but if you think that round was a _birdie_ , I assure you that sort of humor won't be showing up for the rest of the story.

I think this is the part where most people would say something along the lines of, "Like/favorite/subscribe/tweet/comment for a witty golf pun," or something like that, but I'm not smart enough to capitalize on that.


	3. The Rider That Could

**The Rider That Could**

* * *

The smooth horizon, where the ocean touched the sky, stretched out endlessly in all directions, giving a sense of freedom that never grew stale. Uncountable stars twinkled brilliantly in the cloudless sky above. Orange fires glowed mutely on the ground below. The air was crisp and cold and _perfect_!

The black dragon stretched his wings to their fullest extent, allowing the force of his winds to make his joints to crackle and pop. He casually angled to level out again before dropping too low. Though invisible at any height to the pathetic eyes of those land-striders below, he didn't want to take any chances. Content to simply enjoy the scenery while the others caught up, he settled into some lazy circle patterns high above the land-strider nest below.

There was food down there and the queen wanted it. Whatever she wants, she gets. The queen loves the dragons. She protects them. She guards them against the dangerous land-striders. She has needs, though, and demands tribute from the greedy land-striders and the dragons are always happy to oblige her. They would do anything for their queen. They would steal, fight, and die for her.

Down below, the land-striders continued their little lives, completely oblivious to the dragon soaring above. A group of them was gathered around a large fire, engaging in some strange activity, probably a mating ritual. There was a steady stream of concussive sounds from some of them as they beat sticks on various round pieces of hide. Others were shifting their weight, twirling around, jumping in tempo with the beat. From his dragon's-eye perspective, it was actually pretty mesmerising.

A familiar sound echoed across the island. It was the deep, roaring bellow they produce at the start of a raid to welcome the dragons. The others have caught up.

Finally.

Folding his wings, the black dragon settled into his usual routine. His beloved queen wanted the land-striders' food and that's _exactly_ what she would get. However, he would not be the one bringing it back. She would never allow a dragon so valuable and rare to take such risks. The black dragon was gifted with more than just elusiveness in the night. With his ability to hear the faintest whispers of thought from afar and even project his own thoughts in far-reaching, focused bands, he was his beloved queen's eyes and ears in a raid. She enjoyed watching through his eyes and would give commands for the black dragon to relay to the others.

After coordinating with some of the dragons to help a few of the spike-tails ensnared in a web of vines, the black dragon received permission from the distant queen to start a fire run. Folding his wings, he traded altitude for speed as he opened the flaps in the rear of his mouth, producing a piercing shriek that always made land-striders react in funny ways. His target was one of those wooden structures that hurl rocks at dragons. The fireball he spat out sailed through the air in a glow of blue and purple.

BOOM!

The boundary layer ruptured on impact and the core ignited violently in a marvelous explosion. It never got old! The loud crack from the concussion was so crisp. The splintering of wood was so satisfying. The shockwave hitting his wings lifted him up so effortlessly. The intense burst of light and heat was stunningly beautiful. Behind, the entire structure groaned and clattered as it crashed down and tumbled off the cliffside.

 _Is there no other creature in the world so_ magnificent _!_

 _{DON'T FORGET YOU ARE NOTHING MORE THAN A LITTLE MOTH COMPARED TO ME.}_

Except for the queen, of course. The black dragon projected a formless apology for his arrogance and pride.

The raid was going well so far. Some dragons died. They do that, sometimes, but it was inconsequential. The queen was all that mattered. If these tributes pleased her, then these few deaths were worth it.

The black dragon gained some altitude and dove into another fire run. There were no land-striders nearby to notice his distinctive shriek, except for one, but it didn't even have the decency to do anything entertaining, like dive to the ground the way the others would. It looked so small and sickly that the dragon paid it no heed. He waited until he was almost right on top of his target before releasing another fireball.

BOOM!

The wave of heat and sound from the blast against his scales made him feel powerful!

A hiss from the cliff signaled danger, but it was too late. Something twined around his tail and one of his wings. He had seen other dragons lose their flight in a similar way. Instead of fire, land-striders shoot out bits of wood, iron, and flexible vines that ensnare. However, there were no land-striders nearby… except that little one...

Fortunately, the dragon was able to make a hard landing on a cliff that jutted out from the edge of the nest. His left foreleg stung from the impact, but he managed to get down in one piece. With solid ground beneath his paws, he started working his way out of the vines that dragged him out of the sky.

The queen would not permit him to land and fight, but he had no choice in this case. His gaze locked onto two little, green eyes that stared back at him from only a couple wingspans away.

The dragon narrowed his eyes in fury. _That thing tried to_ kill _me!_

The land-strider's eyes practically popped out of his head.

The dragon roared out his anger and rage. The land-strider squeaked in fear.

The dragon launched himself forward. The land-strider merely managed to stumble back in shock.

A quick strike knocked the little critter off its feet. Before it could even fall to the ground, the dragon snapped up its leg in his mouth. With a crunch and a twist of his neck, teeth sunk through flesh and bone, tearing the leg apart. The pathetic rodent cried out in pain.

The dragon had killed before, but never quite like this. This was necessary. This was revenge. This was righteous.

This felt good!

Of course, the land-strider wasn't dead, yet. These stubborn rodents take a lot of abuse before they have the decency to die. The dragon spat out the shredded limb and was about to lunge forward again, but he caught a noise from the side. Once again, his distraction at his own power over others made him lose track of impending danger. He saw a very large land-strider flying through the air with a large, broad, shiny claw held over his head. Though most of his face was covered in fur, hatred and fury burned out from his eyes.

It was too late to react. The dragon felt the claw break through his scales and sink deep into his neck. It stung worse than anything he had ever felt in his life. He howled in pain. He closed his eyes to the cruel world around him and writhed around in agony. He roared and yelped and whined.

Something felt off.

The pain was gone. The roaring of the land-strider ceased. The taste of his own blood was still there, though. The dragon opened his eyes to a familiar sight of stone walls in the dark of night. A fire, encased in a wall of stones, spat out shadows that flickered across the walls.

The dragon worked his way to his paws and shook his head, trying to dislodge the fog in his mind. He twisted his neck experimentally and found it to be just fine. The pain in his foreleg had vanished as well.

He was healed!

Well, his tongue still throbbed. Rubbing it against the roof of his mouth, he could feel a few raw punctures from his own teeth.

 _But why?_

 _How?_

A few wingspans away, he saw another black dragon.

Toothless.

Yes, that was his name. He was wrapped around a diminutive land-strider, who was also blinking the sleep from his eyes to stare at his dragon with amusement. Suddenly, it was all clear what happened.

Locking eyes with Toothless, Firebrand projected his annoyance. _{That was your dream, Toothless, wasn't it? You projected that. That obviously never happened because you are not dead, so stop it!}_

Toothless gave a groan as he used his front paws to pull Firefly a little closer, enjoying his newly restored command over his limbs. The land-striders had been shocked to see the dragon fully recover from the lightning after only a couple of days.

Firefly warbled in his usual sing-song way as he talked to his dragon. Well, it wasn't quite the usual warble. His prolonged exposure to water and cold air almost killed him. He was recovering, but was a bit raspy as a result. Regardless, he was quite proud of his dragon for having such a dream.

That's the thing, though. Dragons don't have dreams. They don't take a memory of a past event and twist the thoughts to follow a new path. Land-striders do that, but not dragons. Somehow, though, Toothless did just that and was even rude enough to project it to those around him.

Toothless rolled his eyes and flattened his rider to the ground, eliciting a giggle from below. He didn't share his rider's enthusiasm. Firebrand couldn't blame him and hoped to never experience anything like that ever again.

A loud squawk heralded the arrival of a spike-tailed dragon with blue and yellow scales around a white belly. As per usual, she was adorned with a land-strider on her back. This one had sun-colored hair and blue eyes that seemed to stare into one's very soul. The land-strider had named her dragon Stormfly.

The land-strider was named Zealot, but it wasn't Stormfly who named her. Toothless had given her that name when he first met her. Zealot was so fiercely loyal, not to an individual so much as to an ideal or a standard. In a single instant, she changed from Firefly's worst obstacle to his best ally when she realized so many of her assumptions about dragon behavior were wrong.

This duo had arrived the night after Skullcrusher and Stalwart, along with four other dragons… or five, depending on how the two-headed dragons are counted. Stalwart allowed only Stormfly and her pet to stay and sent the other dragons and pet land-striders back to their nest. Ever since then, Zealot has been looking after Firefly, helping him get around, bringing him food and water, and providing... other assistance... cleaning his lips with her tongue.

At the moment, Zealot was sitting with Firefly's head in her lap, gently stroking him while she hummed, warbled, and crooned. Firebrand could feel such tenderness and care radiating from her that he rolled his eyes and gagged on his tongue.

Now that Firefly was awake, he was telling Zealot about that night the lightning dragon attacked them. In fact, as he realized, it could very well have been what inspired Toothless' dream. The main theme in both events was the fault of reveling in one's own dominance over others at the cost of ignoring the present danger. Firebrand lounged around, listening in on the projected thoughts from Firefly and Toothless, ready to voice his disagreement about any details he may embellish.

It was a time when the rider's ability to be an annoying pest had reached unprecedented levels. When Firefly challenged Firebrand to what was essentially a fight that ended with first blood, he was amused. That little rodent _really_ wanted to fight? He better be prepared to be humiliated.

However, Firebrand wasn't prepared for how sly and quick that rodent could be. It was still hard to believe that Firefly actually knocked him unconscious just by… by… scratching the underside of his jaw! It wasn't fair! He cheated!

Thankfully, Firefly actually had the decency to skip over that next part. When Firebrand awoke, he was furious. It was so _humiliating_! His blood boiled with rage. He pounced and swiped his claws. This infuriating little insect deserved death. He deserved to be torn apart limb from limb!

In retrospect, Firebrand had to admit he took it a bit too far, but his blind rage simply got the better of him. Toothless intervened, striking when Firebrand was distracted. Toothless was smaller, Firebrand was stronger, but that damned dragon took after his rider and fought like a mink. Firebrand couldn't land a single hit. In the end, it was speed that won the fight.

Toothless managed to smack the back of Firebrand's head into a rock once, twice. Dazed, Firebrand was dimly aware of claws digging into his hide. He could feel himself lift up before crashing back down. Claws kneaded his belly. Even in his semi-conscious state, he could feel the rage and frenzied indignation boiling off of Toothless.

He knew that he crossed the line when he tried to kill that little land-strider instead of just drawing first blood and now the killing bite to the neck was about to come. Any moment, he would be choking on his own blood. Well, that _would_ have happened if Toothless wasn't zapped by lightning at just that moment. To think that the lightning dragon could actually be credited for saving Firebrand's life… _Everything_ just made him so mad!

That was where Firefly picked up his storytelling again in that mind-numbingly slow way land-striders think with their lips. The strike from the lightning dragon left Toothless mostly paralyzed. Firebrand groggily stumbled to all fours and willed the world to stop spinning around him.

It would have been suicide to try to fight a lightning dragon in the storm. The only way to deal with them is to hide, try to draw them out of the storm, or ambush them when they're resting on land. Their lightning cannot be dodged and can incapacitate or even kill a dragon in a single blow. Even if a fight came down to a melee of claws, if the lightning isn't depleted, they can still shock you.

Tolerant snatched the land-strider and took off, shooting a couple fireballs at the lightning dragon to get her attention. Firebrand stretched his wings and caught up as his dizziness slowly abated. The lightning dragon gave chase, but they were faster.

Firefly suggested they land on a nearby island they had flown over the previous day. It used to be a land-strider nest, but they had been wiped out hardly a full generation ago, when the demonic queen decided they were too much trouble to raid and allow to continue living. However, their iron and wood artifacts remained behind.

Being faster fliers, they landed on the island ahead of the enemy and Firefly set to work gathering any iron artifact he could find and stuck them in the ground. Since his ribs were freshly broken, they didn't hinder him too much and Tolerant even helped, using his mouth to grab sticks with iron bits on the end and shoving them into the ground. Firefly had explained that land-striders can project their thoughts onto dead animal skins for future generations to learn and, by looking at these, he learned that the lightning would be diverted into these bits of iron to protect them.

When the enemy caught up, she shot out lightning, as expected, but the land-strider's system actually worked! The enemy roared her frustration. She knew better than to land when she was out-numbered. All this iron would protect the black dragons from the enemy, but wouldn't protect the enemy from their fire and claws. The storm was thinning out in the area, anyway, so she ended up flying away to follow the storm and recharge.

That was when Firefly set to work using and changing various land-strider artifacts. He had explained that he could use this new artifact to take down the lightning dragon so they could deal with her on the ground. Relying on the black dragons' fireballs would not be the wisest idea. They would have to get in dangerously close and the enemy would be alerted to an attack long before it hit. Also, for some reason, the fireball explosions have been known to cause dragons to be struck by lightning.

While Firefly was busy with his artifacts, Firebrand idly licked at a curiously large piece of black iron that was shaped similarly to what the little land-strider had used to hold water and food. His tongue instantly stuck to it and he panicked, trying to pull it off, but it wouldn't budge. Trying to pull hurt so much!

The fact that Firefly lost himself in a fit of laughter didn't help at all. In fact, that devious land-strider had the nerve to say he could help, but only if Firebrand promised to never harm him again. Having no other choice, Firebrand agreed. Firefly simply asked Tolerant to blow some fire on the iron object and the tongue pulled away without any pain.

As Firefly was telling this part of his story, Toothless, having heard it for the first time, started rolling around on his back, hacking and chortling in mirth. Firebrand gave a snarl, but Toothless just rolled over to his side and looked at him with amusement. Apparently, he had been in a very similar situation, too. Somehow, these iron artifacts can cause a tongue to stick to it when the ground is covered in ice, but heating it up with fire releases the tongue. These land-striders think it's very funny.

Firefly resumed his story, getting to the part where Tolerant actually allowed the little land-strider to ride on his back and attach that artifact to him. Even now, the thought of the proud and strong Tolerant serving as some beast of burden seemed so disgusting. Firebrand gave another heartfelt snarl and death glare for good measure and turned his attention elsewhere. He did not need another reminder of this.

Stormfly, who was lounging nearby. flicked her head in his direction and gave out a cawing laugh. Firebrand felt the need to take a jab at her. Not a physical one, of course, as these land-striders and their pet dragons cared about each other so much that to attack one is to attack them all.

 _{Stormfly, I can understand why Toothless would allow Firefly to ride on his back. He's crippled and requires his rider to work the tailfin, but how can you allow Zealot to ride you like you're some beast of burden?}_

The blue dragon, which was sprawled out on her side, pawed at the ground to shift around to face Firebrand, crooning in contentment. _{I have learned of a joy that is fueled by something greater than pride, more intense than rage, and burns hotter than any dragonfire. Zealot's companionship outweighs the burden of her body on my back by an immeasurable degree and I feel a loss without her. I dare to say that you would gain a lot by befriending a rider.}_

Firebrand huffed indignantly. Even the dragon's projected thoughts flowed and splashed around in a similar manner as her rider's. It was as if the thought patterns of the rider were seeping into the dragon, changing her very behavior and the way they thought. He could think of nothing else to do at the moment than argue about nothing, so that's exactly what he did.

 _{You are just a pet to her. What can she possibly offer you to justify granting her the thrill of flight and dragonfire?}_

Just then, Zealot pounced on Stormfly. The two tumbled and wriggled around until Zealot started using her slender limbs to scratch her dragon's jaw, neck, and belly. Stormfly managed to give a wink at Firebrand before she was lost to the world around her, twitching, stretching, and writhing in pleasure. Firebrand just snorted derisively and sulked off to go find some fish to eat. He had enough of these land-striders for now.

########

* * *

########

Stoick puffed out a plume of fog as he set down an armful of branches he had collected from outside the cave. Hiccup's recovery was moving along at a very encouraging rate. The sooner they could take him back to Berk and away from that grouchy Night Fury, the better. That dragon almost ran right into Stoick as he entered the cave, but seemed to be too distracted to even notice.

"Now, hold on there, son," Stoick briskly said as he tossed some more wood into the fire. "Ever think your old man would want to hear about all the ways you foolishly try to kill yourself to satisfy your damned curiosity?"

Toothless grumbled in annoyance, but Hiccup grinned mischievously at that.

Astrid, who was sitting next to her Nadder, idly giving her a belly rub, turned her head and shouted, "HA! I'm not the _only_ one, dragon boy!"

"Not to worry, Dad," Hiccup said. "I would _never_ leave you in the dark regarding my near-death experiences. I was only telling her about the stuff I've told you before. Ya know, the time I kicked Firebrand's butt... the time _he_ kicked _mine_ , our retreat to that island to the East, my latest invention that would have made Toothless jealous if he were there- Mmphhhf, ack! Toothless!

A big, pink, slobbery tongue voiced the dragon's thoughts about being referenced so casually. Hiccup had nowhere to flee, being laid out on his back on a pile of furs, nestled between his dragon's forelegs. Toothless licked his lips and looked down at his rider with amusement.

"Good boy!" Stoick shouted. "Wish we had ya when the lad was younger. You coulda taught him some manners and respect."

Hiccup wiped the back of his sleeve across his face, groaning at the strain it put on his healing ribs. "Excuse me? Here I am, pinned under a bully of a dragon, as helpless as a rabbit in a trap. I was just assaulted by a slobbery tongue and you're telling _me_ about manners? Toothless, I demand justice. Lick him! Lick him now!"

Toothless flicked his head and licked his lips. Stoick scowled through his massive beard. Toothless whined plaintively.

"Really, Bud? You're such a wimp. _That_ is what's stopping you?"

Astrid shifted a little closer. "What's stopping him? Fear of retribution?"

"Nah," Hiccup said dismissively. "Toothless says he would rather die than lick a beard like that. He won't even let me grow out my little bits of stubble."

"Ha!" Stoick laughed. "Now ya know the _real_ reason we grow our beards long. Gotta protect ourselves from the dragons, _somehow_. Tooth, claw, and fire can't hold a candle to the destructive power of the tongue."

Hiccup smirked at his father. "That is the most amazing accidental bit of philosophy I have ever heard."

Stoick grinned. "Who says it was accidental?"

Astrid shifted over to sit next to Toothless and his rider. Stormfly hadn't moved at all, still lost to this world after her belly rub.

"So, you really built another bola ballista?"

"Well, it was mostly built. Just took a small ballista and modified the catch to accept a bola. It was rusty, but the timber was still good."

"And you mounted it on Tolerant?"

Hiccup grinned. "Under the belly. Ran a rope to activate the trigger."

"And you got Tolerant to not only allow you to ride him, but also use him as a mobile shooting platform to take down the Night Fury's most hated enemy?"

"That about sums it up. After a few practice shots, we felt confident enough to go after the Skrill, who was still hanging around this island because of the storm. We knew it was a long shot and a far cry to hope that a fireball or two would take the Skrill down. Their lightning can strike instantly and intercept the fireball. There's no sneaking up on them if they're paying attention, either. They can... _sense_ you nearby. So, I convinced them that my idea would be better. I did have a precedence to lean on, after all, if you know what I mean."

Astrid quirked an eyebrow at Toothless. "And you let this punk ride on your back?"

The Night Fury huffed and rolled his eyes.

"In my defense," Hiccup said, "I had no other option. I would have used Toothless if I could. I'm sure he understands, right, Bud?"

The dragon huffed in annoyance.

"He says yes, by the way. He completely understands and does not hold a grudge against me."

Toothless groaned and snapped his teeth right over his rider's face. As his dragon reared his head back to snap his teeth one more time, Hiccup grinned and stuck his hand up in the air. Toothless yelped and jerked his head back to avoid harming his rider.

"Awwww," Hiccup taunted. "You're so _adorable_ when you're trying to scare- Mmmphhhffff!" Hiccup wiped some more slobber off his face. "This is not fair!"

Stoick asked, "So, I guess it worked? You brought down the Skrill?"

Hiccup's expression instantly turned somber.

"Just in time, too. The storm clouds were building up again over this island and the Skrill was coming back to finish off Toothless."

Hiccup gave his father a contrite look. "Everything that could have gone wrong, did. The bola sorta worked. It brought the Skrill in for a hard landing, at least. I immediately released the bola ballista and Tolerant landed and practically shook me off his back. I was done in, anyway. Broken ribs, lacerations, soaking wet, exposure to the cold. I... I shouldn't have-"

Hiccup's breathing became ragged. Astrid shifted over, shooing Toothless, who rolled over on his side so she could sit with Hiccup. Stoick simply sat nearby, silent as the stone walls of the cave. Hiccup looked up at Astrid and slowly spoke out between forced breaths.

"I tried... to stop the violence... stop the killing." He gave a sad smile. "You think I talked them into letting me use the bolas because I wanted to _kill_ the Skrill? Tolerant fought the Skrill and I... I tried to stop them. He died protecting me from the Skrill. That's when you showed up, Dad. I... I killed Tolerant... I killed Toothless' own father. I tried to stop a fight and I ended up ruining his life... again."

Toothless jumped to all fours and let out a hair-raising snarl at his rider, his sensor lobes and back spines stiffened like hackles. Astrid instinctively rolled to the side, hand resting on the handle of her bushcraft knife at her waist. Stoick had his fingers wrapped around the head of his hand ax. Neither was certain of this situation. Stormfly was on her feet, staring intently at the rider and his dragon, but didn't appear to be too concerned.

Of course, Hiccup was completely unphased. His dragon would never harm him and he knew it. Toothless was simply expressing his distaste for what his rider said.

Hiccup looked up into his dragon's eyes with a sad expression and said, "Roles reversed, would I so easily forgive Toothless if he killed _my_ father? Damn dragon doesn't even have the decency to be upset with me."

Toothless let out a loud roar in his rider's face and sprinted out of the cave with Stormfly chasing after him. The whitened knuckles of Astrid and Stoick relaxed to their sides again.

"Son," Stoick said as he sat himself down. "What... was that?"

Hiccup took a shaky breath to steady himself as Astrid settled down and wrapped a comforting arm around him.

"He's fine. Toothless has always looked up to me for wisdom and guidance."

Stoick gave his son a flat stare. "I'm going to assume that was _supposed_ to be funny."

Hiccup shrugged. "When the Red Death was stomping around and Toothless was drowning, he wanted me to leave him and save myself."

Stoick muttered, "After hauling you back to land, it just felt wrong to leave your dragon down there. You can thank the ale I downed before that battle for making me do something so insane."

Hiccup smiled. "And when I shot him down and found him in the woods, he was actually very disappointed I let him free instead of killing him; waking from the Red Death's mind snare can do that to _any_ dragon."

"You were lucky," Stoick grumbled.

Hiccup's face lit up. "Exactly! And the fact that I even _hit_ him with my bola ballista in the _first_ place … Even though dragons lack imagination, they are in no way our inferior when it comes to logical analysis. Toothless always insists I am his rock and sturdy cave. He insists that I have some sort of… instinct or… I'm guided by the gods at certain times, or something."

"Hiccup", Stoick said, "I don't care if your dragon thinks you fathered Odin himself. Let's stay in Midgard, alright?"

" _I_ am in Midgard, but what about Tolerant? Dad, I killed Toothless' father!"

"You can't say that, son! You were only trying to help. Granted, in your own crazy way without thinking ahead."

Hiccup scrunched his eyes shut, slowly shaking his head, refusing to meet his father's stare.

"Well," Stoick said, "I trust, at least, you've learned a lesson with the Skrill. Sometimes, you have no choice but to-"

"No!" Hiccup snapped. "It can't make sense! I don't accept it! Dad, that day I shot down Toothless and found him in the woods-"

"Back to that, again." Stoick rolled his eyes. "Does a day ever go by..."

Hiccup gave his father a sad smile. "Not a single day I don't think about it. Dad, listen to me. Please?"

To the surprise of Stoick and Astrid, Hiccup held his silence, staring at them, waiting for some acknowledgement that they would let him speak. He seemed so vulnerable, exposed, and afraid. The people of Berk had come to respect him as an expert on dragons. Ever since he found Toothless, unknown to anybody else at that time, Hiccup had transformed into someone who was always confident – reckless and hasty, but still confident. To see him like this was unsettling.

"Hiccup," Astrid said. "We're here for you. Just Let it out. Let it all out."

Hiccup quirked a smile. "I'm not going to cry. I'm not sad, I'm just angry. I don't even know who I'm angry at. That day I found Toothless in the woods changed my life. I discovered who I really was. It was the day I finally stopped trying to be like..."

Hiccup cast a quick glance at his father and got a subtle grin in return.

"Dad, when I cut Toothless loose... well, it was stupid, idiotic, reckless, and foolish. Anybody who says they could have predicted that would have been a good idea would be lying through their teeth. But it was the start of the one-and-only time I made the world a better place. When I tried to show people that dragons could be friends instead of target practice, I was a heretic, a crazy fool... a bastardized outcast-"

"Hiccup!" Stoick scowled. "C'mon, don't! You know I regret-"

"I know! Just... Please. I don't harbor any resentment. Please believe me when I say that. Nobody can argue against the fact that you made the most _logical_ conclusion, but _that's_ just the _thing_. It wasn't about dragons against Vikings or whose side I was on. It was about my compassion against your aggression. My madness against your logic.

Astrid lay herself down next to Hiccup and put an arm under the back of his neck. "Hiccup, I give you permission to start making sense."

The boy groaned. "You see, you dislike, you chop. And who can blame you for that? My one moment of mindless compassion that _anybody_ could rightly call a moment of madness is the _one_ anchor I have in life. _Before_ I met Toothless, I was a perpetual failure and source of disappointment. _After_ the dragon war ended, I'm nothing more than a political vice. The moment of insanity when I cut Toothless loose was the _one_ thing I did _right_. How can I just _forget_ about it? How can I stop _trying_ to do that again and again? What _else_ do I have to hold onto except that _thing_ that caused me to spare a life and stop a war? How many hundreds of years would our people endure dragon raids if somebody didn't do something so incredibly stupid?"

Astrid gave a hopeful smile. "And you see what happened? You did a good thing, Hiccup. Why is this weighing you down?"

Skullcrusher, who had laid down next to the young riders, craned his neck around to nuzzle and lick Hiccup affectionately.

Astrid smiled widely. "And even though I can't hear dragons as you can, I _know_ I speak for Skullcrusher when I say we are _very_ thankful for what you did."

The dragon chuffed his agreement and Hiccup rubbed his cheek against the snout. After a few breaths, he rolled his head back to the shield-maiden.

"That's just the thing, Astrid. You once mentioned that _anybody_ else would have killed Toothless after finding him in the forest and you were _right_. You would have taken his head back and we'd worship the ground you walk on. Dad would kill him and we'd cheer at the victory. Even _Fishlegs_ would have done the deed and _nobody_ would even have a second thought. But _I_ didn't. That moment of madness was my greatest accomplishment in life. _Something_ about me is different. That _something_ is the only thing I can hold onto.

"I was trying to fight the logic of aggression with the madness of compassion when I first cut Toothless loose. I tried it again with the Skrill, but I only got Tolerant killed. Where do I draw the line? If you tell me to abandon such thinking, then please please _please_ give me something else to hold on to! Otherwise, what stability is left in my life?"

Astrid didn't even hesitate. "You'd still have Toothless as your anchor in life."

"And how did I get Toothless in the _first_ place? Madness of compassion!"

Astrid scoffed. "That's circular logic. Besides, you got me, too."

"And how did I get _you_?"

Astrid narrowed her eyes. "If your answer involves Toothless-"

Hiccup closed his eyes and groaned. He was right and she knew it. Before Toothless, Astrid just gave "Hiccup the Useless" the cold shoulder. She was never mean, but was never kind, either, and would simply stand to the side when the other kids decided that beating up the village screw-up would be really fun.

Ever since the dragon war ended, though, they started to really like each other. Hiccup could tell she wasn't comfortable talking about that transition and he didn't want to take any risk of losing her friendship.

Opening his eyes, he wrapped his fingers around Astrid's. "Sorry. You're right."

"You're patronizing me."

"And you're unyielding and beautiful. That still doesn't change the fact that nothing makes sense."

There was a long silence, punctuated by the hissing and crackling of the fire in its stone cage. Astrid cast a pleading look over at Stoick, whose face remained unreadable behind his massive beard. Would his son be so confused about his integrity and what he stood for if he had a better father? Sure, this might just be a product of his teenage years, but then again, if he wasn't such a social outcast who could never please his father, would he have been driven to do something so crazy as to release what was the Viking's worst enemy at that time?

The father wasn't sure if he should feel remorseful or relieved that he drove his own son to the brink of such desperation and insanity that forged his bond with his dragon. The chief was an amazing leader and fighter, but...

"You just grin and bear it, son. Live and learn. Do what feels right and learn from your mistakes."

... there was a reason Hiccup always went to Gobber when he felt lost and scared.

This conversation has been going in circles for too long, now. The chief decided to handle this the way he always handled awkward or difficult situations with his son.

Standing up he said, "We should be able to fly you back home in a couple days. There's no way you're flying Toothless in your condition and he can't fly alone, so I'll go find the forge on that island you mentioned and make a bracket for Astrid's boot so she can fly him. You can ride on Skullcrusher with me or... we'll find _some_ way to get you back without aggravating your healing ribs. Stay warm, son. I'll be back in a bit."

Without waiting for a reply, Stoick got his dragon on his feet and strode out.

The two lovebirds could use some privacy, anyway.

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Thank you for reading!

Hopefully, things should be falling into place by now. I wanted to try some new things, especially for a storyline so cliche as Toothless finding his family. Most stories I've read go something like this:

 _One day, Hiccup said, "Hey, Toothless, let's go find your family."_

" _Ok," Toothless said. Or something like that._

 _And, so, they set out and found like a billion Night Furies next to Santa's workshop and Hiccup and Toothless were inducted into the Night Fury Illuminati. And Toothless found his family and they loved him. And he found a mate and had babies and Hiccup oozed all over them._

So, yeah, I dunno what to call this sort of story opener, aside from "Star Wars Storytelling", but I wanted to start in the middle of an action scene and reveal the surrounding plot over time. There's still more Firebrand and Toothless origins in the following chapters, but I really am curious how you like (or don't like) this sort of storytelling. If you don't wanna leave a comment, could I ask for a PM? This style of storytelling is new to me and I'd be grateful for even just a drive-by roxors/suxors. Thanks!


	4. Shipped

**Shipped**

Hiccup sat in dejection inside the cave. Astrid sat with him in awkward silence, unsure of what to say. Stormfly charged in and sprawled out next to them, content to simply rest while they figure things out. Toothless hadn't come back, yet.

They just stared at the fire through the gaps in the stone surrounding it. The flames were almost invisible. The fire had a very hot bed of coals and the wood was burning so efficiently there was practically no smoke. Hiccup wanted to say something, but his lips wouldn't move. He wanted to apologize for his outburst, but he couldn't conjure up the guilt.

Finally, Astrid broke the silence. "If Toothless doesn't blame you for Tolerant's death, I don't think you should either. You just wanted to help."

"And yet, my attempt at doing just that got someone killed. Tolerant died protecting me... all because I tried to assert myself into the situation."

"So you don't think things through. I'm not denying it has worked out well in times past. You're the first person to ever ride a dragon. Sane and logical thinking would have stopped anyone else from doing what you did long before the Red Death was killed."

Hiccup lightly chuckled at that.

"However," Astrid continued in a stern voice, "I also can't deny you're calling Toothless a liar."

Hiccup jerked his head over at Astrid and yelped at the pain of the sudden motion.

Astrid tsked him for stressing his healing rib and said, "It's either that or you're saying he was incorrect. Both you and he witnessed what happened. You were in the heat of all the chaos. Toothless was watching from the side and could see the whole picture. You haven't even suggested there were certain details to which Toothless was not privy, so the logical conclusion is that you think he's a liar when he says Tolerant's death is not your fault."

"Astrid! I never even suggested-"

He wasn't upset by the fact that Tolerant died and I can't blame him for how little he knew his father. What really _did_ upset Toothless was that you're trying to blame yourself for everything that goes wrong. Again. Even when dealing with forces beyond your own control. This is just like when you tried to blame yourself for that surprise gust of wind that knocked Toothless into a cliffside and sprained his wing a couple months ago."

"Astrid," Hiccup whined, "It's not that simple. I-"

She placed a hand over his mouth. "You've done a lot of talking and I've done a lot of listening. My turn, alright?"

"But-"

"I. Said. _My_. Turn."

Hiccup gave a resigned sigh.

"Good! Now, you always preach to everyone about respecting dragons as intelligent creatures and not just simple animals. Do you respect Toothless?"

Hiccup rolled his eyes. "I'm going to _assume_ you're going somewhere with this."

"Yes or no?"

"Astrid-"

"Yes or no?"

"Yes!"

"Good. Now, do you respect his ways, even though you and he are very different creatures who naturally respond differently to a situation?"

"Of course! I actually do listen to him. You know this!"

"And when you know Toothless is more qualified to decide how to handle a situation…"

"Like that time I tried to show goodwill to those pirates, but Toothless knew better?"

Astrid snorted. "Oh, the looks on their faces when we sent them off on their ship, bound in their own bolas and nets."

Hiccup laughed until he was sore. He resigned himself to lie down and Astrid cradled his head in her lap.

Hiccup said, "Yeah, I certainly need Toothless for more than just his brawn."

"Because you have respect for him."

"Absolutely!"

Astrid smiled. "When Tolerant wanted to fight the Skrill, did you show him the same sort of respect?"

Hiccup's face went blank for a moment, then twisted into scrutiny, shock, and realization.

With a surprisingly fast movement for someone in his condition, he rolled over to his hands and knees, leaning on Stormfly's snout to stand up. The dragon ignored his pained groaning and seemed excited for Hiccup as he stood and hurriedly walked out of the cave. Astrid got over her shock at the sudden move and shot up, catching up to him.

"Hiccup, where are you going? You foolish boy!"

"You're right, Astrid. You're absolutely right!"

"That this is foolish? Your ribs are still healing!"

Hiccup grinned. "Among other things."

Astrid tried to duck her head under Hiccup's arm to shoulder his weight, but he took a step to the side.

Wheezing through a pained groan, he said "I'm fine... just... let me-"

"Hiccup!"

Hiccup stopped and spun around to look Astrid straight in the eyes with a pleading expression.

" _Please_ let me do this. You're right and I can't change the past, but I can control my future. This is necessary. Please, Astrid."

Hiccup turned and continued on his way. Astrid shook the doubtful look off her face and caught up again, which wasn't too hard with the pace Hiccup set in his condition. Stoick had rigged some bindings around Hiccup's torso to support his healing ribs and they helped him keep a slow shuffle, but they were a little on the loose side since he had been laying down for a while. She grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled it off to twist the stick securing the bindings, tightening them a little more. Hiccup protested and grunted, but allowed her to do it; not that he had any choice. As she put the coat back on him, he started to walk forward again, out of the cave.

"Your father is going to _kill_ me for not knocking you unconscious and hauling you back by your ankles!"

Hiccup grinned at her. "Just tell him I hit you or something."

Astrid rolled her eyes. Outside the cave, the sun was just ducking below the horizon, painting the sky pink and red. Stormfly's alarmed chirp and Toothless' joyful bark could be heard behind them. The Night Fury almost knocked Hiccup down, frantically rubbing his jawline against his rider's cheek. He had a desperately hopeful look in his eyes. Hiccup gave the dragon's forehead a quick stroke with his knuckles and continued on his way.

As he cast glances at his dragon, he said, "Sorry about that earlier, Bud. Had a meltdown, didn't mean to scare ya."

"Hiccup. Really, you're going to explain yourself _right now_ or not even Toothless will stop me from dragging you back kicking and screaming."

"You're right," Hiccup exclaimed over the biting wind that rose up outside the shelter of the cave. He stumbled on the uneven ground and caught himself on his dragon's head with a grunt of thanks.

Astrid grabbed a handful of the front of Hiccup's coat and gave a tug. "Damn straight I'm right!"

The boy didn't resist, but instead wrapped his arms around her in a hug. "Not about dragging me back, Astrid. Respect. That's what it was all about. It's the missing piece. It's the cornerstone that kept everything from crumbling around me. It's what I lost that caused everything to collapse."

Astrid sighed and pushed him away to lean on his dragon again. She knew she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she really did drag Hiccup back to the cave. They continued walking along. "But respect for who? Tolerant? Toothless?"

"Yes! It explains so many things!" Hiccup spoke with a raised voice to be heard in the wind. Toothless had taken up a position between the two riders as they walked along, offering his head as a support for Hiccup as he leaned over toward Astrid.

Hiccup continued, "Respect for dragons is just one example. You're right, they _are_ very different creatures than us. You think Vikings are violent? Ha! What a joke! Toothless was just fighting Firebrand a while ago to blow off some steam – claws, fangs, nothing held back. See the marks on his shoulder? See the spacing of the missing scales? See the claw punctures under his chin and the bruise on the side of his head? Firebrand must have tried to get revenge from when Toothless knocked him senseless against a rock a few days ago. Also, the bite marks on his hind leg explain the limp he's trying to hide.

"They weren't really fighting, like that day the Skrill attacked. Nah, they were just _playing._ Toothless needed an outlet for his frustration with how glum I've been, lately, and Firebrand was his playmate."

Turning to Toothless, he said, "Sorry again about that, Bud."

Toothless grumbled and nudged his rider, looking up at him with wide eyes. Hiccup couldn't pick up any distinct thought projections, but could sense his dragon felt guilty for doing something that might cause his rider to worry. There was also that feeling of euphoria all dragons feel when they fight or engage in some intense physical activity.

Hiccup waved off his dragon's concern. "No, Bud, you're fine. I know you'll be good as new in a couple days. You're a dragon and I've been repressing your… uhhh… dragonyness. I've been a real party pooper who steps on your toes all the time and you _let_ me because you _love_ me so much, but I shouldn't take that for _granted_. I hope you had a lot of fun and I trust you kicked Firebrand's scaly butt, right?"

The dragon gave a non-committal grumble, drawing out a chuckle from his rider.

"So, that's it?" Astrid asked. "That's _all_ this was about? I swear you're just _playing_ with me."

Hiccup winked. "It explains so many things. You remember that stunt I pulled two years ago at the end of our dragon training, when I was supposed to fight Hookfang? I was trying to show everyone that dragons can be our friends instead of our enemies. The night before, Dad told me how proud he was of me. He smiled at me. At _me_! Gods! Astrid, you can't imagine! Really! There is no expressing _how much_ that meant to me!

"And how do I thank him for that? I trundle over to the kill ring to practically spit in his face by defacing everything that defines a Viking. I _knew_ it was the wrong way to approach this. I almost got Toothless and myself killed by my own father. It wasn't because words don't work with Vikings. No, I just didn't respect their ways. I didn't respect the… Vikingness of a Viking."

"Hiccup, could you stop talking about _Vikings_ as if-"

"Nope! Not a Viking. Sorry, Astrid."

"Hiccup, you are ridiculous!"

Hiccup grinned, "And you are _extra_ beautiful when you're upset. Now that we got some stupidly obvious statements out, back to Vikings. How do they bring about change? You put someone's shoulders against the ground and your blade against their neck. _Then_ you can talk about change. It's brutally simple."

"That's a bit of an oversimplification."

"Good. I'll take simple."

Astrid sighed. "So what has this to do with anything?"

"I'll be training Vikings to befriend and ride dragons, right? I've been stewing over how to do that for weeks and all I could think of was to make them be like me. Turn them all into Hiccups. I tried to turn Tolerant into a Hiccup and it-"

Toothless licked his rider's face to ward off any self-deprecation.

"Well," Hiccup said as he wiped his face off, "Lesson learned. Turning others into me is a bad idea."

Astrid mock-grimaced "Gods have mercy on us if the world gets another one of you!"

Hiccup chortled. "But what you said makes so much sense. I certainly didn't help the situation when I tried to stop Tolerant from fighting. I tried to make him more like me and that was a terrible thing to do. I didn't respect _his_ way of doing things.

"Likewise, I didn't change Dad's mind in the kill ring because I didn't respect the Viking way. I didn't do it in a way anyone could appreciate. I changed Dad's mind about dragons when he saw us riding dragons and saving his ass. I convinced him to let me do things my way when he _knew_ he was about to be burned to ashes by the Red Death. _That_ is the Viking way. Speaking of ashes..."

Astrid suddenly stopped as she realized where they were. She had seen Tolerant's pyre from the air on Stormfly's back when she arrived yesterday. Hiccup had explained that dragons normally burn their dead. However, a lone Night Fury wouldn't have enough fire to fully consume the body, so Firebrand allowed Stoick to help collect enough wood to build a pyre for Tolerant. Stoick never did anything halfway. Aside from bits of half-burned logs around the perimeter, there was nothing left of the pyre and the body except for fine ash on top of a bed of still-burning coals, dotted with black scales and bones that stubbornly refused to burn.

Hiccup took the last few steps and rolled forward to his knees at the edge of the pyre. He pawed at the ashes and burned his mitt, but was able to scoop some scales to the perimeter where they would cool off. He grabbed the tip of his mitt in his teeth and pulled it off so he could press his bare hand into the cooled ashes and opened up his coat, but groaned.

Looking back at Astrid – well, twisting a little bit, as his bindings restricted his movement – he said, "Can you help me with this?"

"Hiccup, are you really-"

"Please?"

Astrid gave an exasperated sigh and loosened the stick that was twisting the bindings tight behind Hiccup's back so he could slide the layer of cloth down to his waist, exposing his bare chest. Astrid gasped at her first sight of the puckered holes in the flesh where the Skrill's teeth had sunken in. She bit her tongue, but vowed that Hiccup would receive an earful for putting himself in such a situation.

Placing his fingertips near his neck, Hiccup dragged his hand down toward his heart, leaving a gray-black smear of ash behind. Astrid had stepped back and stood by her dragon. They never knew Tolerant and it would be an insult to take part in any funeral rights for a stranger.

Staring at the pile of ash, Hiccup said, "I hardly got to know you, Tolerant. I don't know if you would still be alive today if I hadn't tried to stop you from fighting the Skrill or whether it was all a wash. Either way, I'm sorry I hadn't learned my lesson earlier. I didn't respect you as a dragon and tried to make you handle a situation like a Hiccup. I vow to retain the wisdom you've imparted to me in the short time I was graced by your presence and to keep you in my heart for as long as I remain in Midgard."

Toothless simply crouched there by his rider's side. He did not want to project his confusion and curiosity to his rider as he could tell this was an emotional and important event. These were not idle actions. Hiccup looked over at his dragon and smiled as he put a pinch of the ashes in his mouth.

After swallowing and wetting his lips again, he said, "It's a Viking thing, Bud. Take some of his ashes to keep him close to me. Close to my heart. Ask him to guide me in life. I count it a terrible loss that I couldn't get to know your father better."

Hiccup lowered his voice. "Between you and me, Bud, I think it's all just silly superstition, anyway. If the gods exist, then they must be crazy. If they don't, then the world makes a lot more sense. Funerals are for the benefit of the living, after all, not the dead."

Toothless ducked his head down and sniffed experimentally. Leaning forward, he stuck his paw into the ashes. The thin layer of snow they walked through had melted on his paws, causing the ash to stick. As he balanced on three legs, he looked over at his rider and saw a big grin.

Feeling encouraged, he tried to mimic the same motion, but his legs just were not meant to bend that way. A soft, defeated groan escaped him, but Hiccup pressed his hand into the ashes and did the deed for his dragon. Toothless lifted his head and his foreleg so his rider could smear the ashes across the base of his neck and down to his heart. Hiccup couldn't hold back a chuckle when his dragon flicked his tongue into the ashes and swallowed some down, snorting at the dust.

Hiccup pocketed a few of the scales and tried to stand, but groaned from the pain as he doubled over on his dragon's head. Astrid quickly moved in and secured the bindings tight around his chest and helped him put his coat back on.

Off In the distance, two pale-green eyes popped out of the black of night, illuminated by the moon. Hiccup stomped out his temptation to ask his dragon if Firebrand was saying anything. For how freely dragons could communicate, they were usually solitary creatures of few words. If he needed to know something, it would be made known.

"Feel any better?" Astrid asked.

Hiccup flashed a quick smile as he hobbled back toward the cave. All this exertion had really taken a lot out of him. It was a struggle to walk and his chest burned with pain, but he soldiered on.

"More than words could ever describe."

########

* * *

########

"How many Vikings, ya think? 12?"

Stoick heard his dragon give a casual huff from below. He was learning that counting wasn't their strongest skill. Maybe, at least, the way they rationalize the details of the world around them was different and whatever he projects when speaking comes across in a strange way to his dragon.

Craning his neck around, Stoick stole a glance at the three dragons behind him. Firebrand was flying with them, a little separated from the pack, but still nearby. Stoick still hasn't forgiven that dragon for losing himself in a rage and almost killing his son. However, Firebrand knew the boy killed the Skrill and most likely saved his life in the process. That alone generated respect for the boy.

The day before taking off, the dragon had approached Stoick when he was alone with Skullcrusher. Between Firebrand flicking his head and Skullcrusher suggestively nudging, Stoick decided to follow along. It took only a few steps to figure out where he was being led. Firebrand approached Tolerant's pyre, pressed his paw into the ashes, and pointedly tried to rub it against his chest, but Night Fury legs just weren't meant to bend that way.

Stoick was shocked and simply stood there, mouth agape. He could tell this had Skullcrusher's stamp of approval and he trusted his dragon. So, he helped the Night Fury smear the ashes along the base of his neck. The dragon even flicked his tongue into the ashes and then, in a very awkward and hesitant way, gave Stoick's arm a quick rub with the side of his head before running off.

Hiccup had said that the dragon was curious about the Vikings on Berk. Spending a little time on Berk must be Firebrand's way of coming to terms with the Red Death that prevented him from flying anywhere near this area for so long. With no family left aside from Toothless, there was no reason to stay at his former home.

Well, supposedly, there were two female Night Furies from their clutch somewhere out there. With their sensor lobes, they must have recognized the threat of the Red Death and marked the Barbaric Archipelago as a no-fly zone, which effectively cut off their small chain of islands from the rest of the world. However, as soon as the Red Death was killed, the females bolted and were never seen again.

"Toothless, that wasn't me! _You_ made us tilt to the side!"

Stoick flicked his eyes over to a shouting Astrid and growling Toothless. She was starting to get a bit more comfortable with working the mechanical tailfin. After the thunderstorm that had lasted the past several days, this calm, still night helped her a lot in flying Toothless. Aside from the infrequent bickering about who caused the dragon to smack into Firebrand or fly upside-down, it seemed she was doing a good job. At least, Toothless' grumblings had ceased... mostly. The poor beast felt a Hiccup-sized void on his back that Astrid could never fill.

 _Speaking of the heir..._

Hiccup definitely was not happy. He had groaned and grumbled at Stoick before they took off, but not because of his healing ribs that were still very sore. There was no way Stoick would allow his son to ride his dragon. Even _Toothless_ backed the chief on that. To avoid jostling the healing rib, Stoick rigged a sling underneath Stormfly's belly and cinched Hiccup in tight.

"Doin' good, Hiccup?" Stoick called out.

Toothless grumbled and thrashed in annoyance. Hiccup said, "Stole the words right out of my mouth, Bud."

Stoick ignored his son's snarky comment and returned his attention to the ship below. It was a cargo vessel from the Outcast tribe. The sky was pitch black, but torches on the ship revealed only a few crewmen. No doubt more were asleep below deck. Hiccup had already filled him in on how many Vikings and caged dragons were on the ship. The very notion that Toothless could sense all that from so far away, just by hearing some sort of passive mental hum, and communicate it to his rider remotely through Stormfly _still_ made Stoick's head spin.

This was an Outcast ship, so Stoick wanted to take this opportunity to make life miserable for them. There was already a blood feud so deeply rooted that Stoick didn't care at all what happened to them. Establishing good relations with Firebrand and these other dragons would be a good bonus.

"Alright, Skullcrusher, here's the plan," Stoick said. "We will go in. You tell the other dragons to just fly around above and stay out of sight in the darkness. You follow my lead and tell them to attack only when I say so and only hit what I tell them to hit."

Stoick knew Hiccup would translate and clarify if needed. As much as the chief wanted to just sink the damn ship and kill everyone onboard, his honor and pride compelled him to at least give them a chance to whimper back to home. A Viking kills without hesitation, when necessary, but there is no honor in senseless slaughter like this. With fire, tooth, and claw to back him up, though, he will make them very unhappy.

Looking over at the Nadder, he said, "Stormfly, don't get involved. You just keep Hiccup safe. Can you promise me that?"

It was a rhetorical question, but the dragon jerked her head up and down and gave a subtle squawk. It was one of the gestures any dragon with a rider quickly picked up to communicate, right along with what Hiccup dubbed the "Flying dance" and the "I'm hungry shuffle".

Satisfied that all was set, Stoick angled his dragon in to drop down on the bow of the ship. In a well-practiced move, he released his flight harness as Skullcrusher flared his wings to swoop in with a gentle thud. He dropped down to the deck, sword in hand. The crew, which had no warning of his approach in the dead of night, suddenly noticed him and drew axes, polearms, and swords.

Stoick held his sword pointed at the deck in front of him in a show of minimal aggression while the crew gathered in a semicircle around him. He didn't see any bows, but he had his large, round Gronckle iron shield with him, which was newly repaired with some impromptu rivets securing the handle until Gobber could work his magic. Stoick was no blacksmith, but he figured out how to work the forge well enough to hack things together.

The crew seemed uncertain how to deal with this situation, which was completely understandable for those who don't see a Viking jump off a dragon's back on a boat on a daily basis.

"Ahoy, sailors," Stoick greeted in a neutral voice. "I hope you don't mind my intrusion. With your cooperation, I promise I won't be here for long."

One of the crew took a half-step forward. "Who... Who are you… How are you... That's a-a-"

"A dragon, yes," the chief said in a bored tone. He stretched his arms out, showing himself off, and said, "But what do you _mean_ 'Who are you'? I'm Stoick the Vast, chief of the Hairy Hooligan tribe! Surely, you've heard of me."

Grumbling could be heard from the crewmen. They were mainly voicing their confusion and shock at seeing a dragon standing behind a Viking instead of, say, mauling said Viking. Their mumbling shifted into taunts for putting himself in such a situation.

"Yer' a fool, then, Stoick. You've a dragon, but we're dragon _trappers_ , ya daft idiot! Alvin's gonna set us up for life once we give him your head, eh boys?"

The crew jeered and took a confident step forward. Stoick smiled as he took another half-step, fingers gently wrapped around his dragon's horn, guiding him to the desired position. There was still a good five paces between the two parties.

Under his breath, Stoick said, "Skullcrusher, tell Firebrand to shoot fire at the bow of the ship. That's the end just behind us. Be ready to swing around and hit them with your tail. Do you understand?"

The dragon huffed in a manner Stoick had learned signaled acknowledgment. He took another step forward and smiled casually at them.

"Gentlemen, I am making an offer. You have a Timberjack, a Nadder, and three Gronckles caged below the deck. I will let you all live if you give them up. Simple as that. What is your response?"

Stoick suddenly noticed a couple additional crewmen joined the group. Some bolas and spears appeared at the ready. One of the larger crewmen took a step forward. He appeared to be in his thirties and had a large, scraggly, black beard atop a strong frame. He looked like any other Viking from the Outcast tribe with his gray clothing, iron pauldrons, leather arm wraps, and scalemail shirt.

"Ha! How stup'd-"

"Fire!" Stoick hissed under his breath at his dragon. "Fire now!"

"-can ya be?! D'ya know how big o- price yer head'l fetch... when..."

He stopped talking when they all heard the signature sound of a Night Fury making a fire run. Eyes were thrown everywhere, scanning the black sky for the black dragon. Stoick grinned.

"Ready, Skull?"

Stoick gave his opposition a wide grin as he took another step forward, still guiding his dragon. When he figured the fireball was about to be released, he lunged forward with his sword raised, forcing his enemies to focus on him in anticipation of an attack. However, it was a ruse and he quickly dropped to a low crouch just before the fireball hit.

Those fools didn't have the sense to do anything except stand there and glare at the chief. As a result, they were temporarily blinded by the flash of light assaulting their dilated pupils. Stoick had positioned his dragon to the side and, by crouching himself down, none of his enemies were shielded from the intense glare. He could feel the heat and the concussive force of the impact at his back and used it to lunge forward as Skullcrusher swung his massive tail around in a wide arc, knocking down several crewmen.

In their blinded stupor, Stoick had no trouble grabbing the arm of one enemy to spin him around and head-butt the soft spot in the back of his head, sending him to the deck in a limp heap. With a swing of his massive left arm, Stoick drove his shield into another Viking, knocking him down. At the same time, he struck the sword arm of another with his own blade and quickly shuffled to the side to avoid any wild swings from his downed opponents. In the same motion, he was able to catch someone's temple with the side of his shield in a hard blow.

"YIELD!" the chief bellowed as he separated himself from the group that was still trying to pick themselves back up and regain their senses.

Skullcrusher, having finished his swing, stood at the chief's side. Seven Outcasts were prone on the deck. Three of them were not moving.

"Get down!" Stoick shouted. "Chin on the deck and I will let you go home alive! Continue to fight and you will die! You see only two dragons on the ship, but how many more are in the sky, ready to pounce you? I'll declare my intentions once more. I am here for the dragons you have below deck."

The crewmen huddled around, not making any aggressive moves, but not complying either. Out of the corner of his eye, Stoick noticed Firebrand had landed a few paces away, roaring at them. He looked over at the Night Fury and grinned.

This was another benefit to attacking these Outcast bastards. This dragon, like so many Vikings he knew, had a drive to show his dominance over others. Every day spent not doing that was like bending a stick, building up tension, until he finally snaps. These Outcasts were a nice target for the dragon to take out his pent-up aggression so he'd be more calm and docile when they arrive on Berk.

"Nice shot, Firebrand," the chief crowed. "Nothing else quite like it!"

One of the crewmen took a step forward, raising his sword. "Stand your ground! Nobody is going-"

Stoick noticed Firebrand was kneading his claws into the wooden deck and took a couple steps in anticipation of what he was likely to do.

"-anywhere without our catch!"

Stoick cast an unreadable stare at him. "I presume you must be the captain? I shall call you captain death wish."

Shifting his gaze to the others, still gathered uncertainly behind the captain, he said "Will you follow your captain to a watery grave? Get in the damn dinghy now or-"

Firebrand snarled and lunged at the Vikings, but Stoick was prepared and intercepted, bracing his shield against the side of his body and slamming it into the dragon's outstretched claws. The chief was massive and strong enough to almost stop the dragon dead in his tracks as he crumpled against the shield and quickly raised himself to all fours as he hit the deck.

Stoick couldn't allow the impulsive dragon to interfere in an uncontrolled manner. If the crew considered themselves to be defeated, then the most efficient thing would be to send them off in the dinghy. After all, a man who loses a fight, but not his life, is not much of a threat. Threaten his life, though, and he will fight back as if he has nothing to lose. Winning a battle isn't about killing all your enemies; Just defeating them is usually more efficient.

Turning back to the captain, Stoick shouted, "Calm yourself, Firebrand. We do not kill those who are already defeated. This is-"

He was cut off as rows of teeth wrapped around his left forearm, causing him to wince and drop the shield to the deck. Firebrand wasn't biting hard enough to draw blood, yet, but was certainly throwing some sort of tantrum about being denied a chance to revel in senseless slaughter. In his own way, the dragon was saying, "Let me at them or I will attack you instead."

However, the Night Fury's wing was pinched between Skullcrusher's rows of sharp teeth. Both dragons were as still as the ship. They locked eyes. Stoick could imagine that Skullcrusher was saying in his wordless way, "If you hurt my rider, I will hurt you even worse."

Softly, Stoick said, "Firebrand, let's all take a step back and calm down. Hiccup told me that dragons aren't just dumb beasts that are driven only by emotion and instinct. Perhaps you can still convince me of this."

Stoick felt the teeth come down ever-so-slightly, but the Night Fury gave a yelp as another set of teeth dug into the arm of his wing. A shout drew everyone's attention to the enemy captain, charging in with his sword in both hands.

Without a second thought, Stoick swung his sword at Firebrand's head. The dragon instantly pulled back, releasing the arm in a frantic response. Stoick anticipated this reaction and stopped the swing of his sword, giving him barely enough time to bring it up to block the enemy's blow.

Blade struck blade. Crossguard ground against crossguard as his enemy growled at him. The fool had worked himself into a blind rage. This locking of swords was completely pointless and Stoick knew it. However, he cast a grin at Firebrand.

"This one, Firebrand, is all yours. Have fun!"

Suddenly, there was no longer a Viking in front of the chief. There was only a sword that spun around the cross-guard of his own before clattering to the deck. Off to the side, the Night Fury painted the boards red with blood. The screams of pain did not last long before they gave way to wet gurgling and then, silence. The beast seemed to have a lot of aggression to get rid of and continued to shred the limp corpse to ribbons. Stoick had no desire to interfere as it served the dual purpose of helping to control Firebrand's aggression and also shocking the rest of the crew into a obedience.

Stoick shifted his attention to the huddled mass of the crew. "Such loyalty you outcasts have for your captain. Ready the dinghy and get off _my_ ship, maggots! Take your injured with you. I don't want them."

The crew actually started to move to comply. Firebrand, off to the side, angled his crimson maw up. His entire underside was streaked with red. Stoick followed his gaze and just barely made out a splotch of color that marked the white underside of Stormfly with the underslung Hiccup. He could only imagine the lovey-dovey thrashing of a preaching the boy was giving Firebrand.

Stoick cast a glance over at his dragon. "You handled yourself very well, Skullcrusher. I'm very proud of you! If it wasn't for your composure and quick response, I'd be missing more limbs than Gobber."

Skullcrusher nuzzled the chief's arm with his snout and received an equally affectionate slap on the carapace plates on his thick neck.

As the crew started to launch the dinghy, dragging their injured aboard, Stoick walked up to Firebrand, but stopped several paces short. Skullcrusher shadowed his rider, but heeded his gestures, hanging back just behind the arm he held out.

"Hey!"

Firebrand looked up at the chief. Stoick dismissively brushed some of the blood off of his arm. The Night Fury actually had the decency to look a little bashful. In those large, green eyes, Stoick could almost see Spitelout, who has been known to lose his cool in the heat of battle and afterward say, "I'm sorry, brother, I don't know what came over me. I was just so damn angry!" As much as he didn't want to, Stoick already felt himself forgiving the dragon.

He said, "I'm willing to forget about what just happened and I'll still allow you on _my_ island. But know this, Firebrand. If you attack any of _my_ people without provocation, you will be hunted and killed! You have wings and I ain't stopping you from flying off if you can't stand being around us. But if you harm anyone on Berk, your hide will serve as a rug to wipe my boots! Do we have an understanding?"

Firebrand gave a snort and snarled at the departing forms of the Outcast crewmen as their dinghy pushed off from the ship.

"Skullcrusher, is that a yes? Does he understand?"

The dragon huffed and bobbed his head. Stoick waved in Toothless and Stormfly, who were circling above, to come and land.

"Good enough."

* * *

 **A/N:**

Thanks for reading!

Nitroexpress - Thanks for the feedback. In renovating stories in general, I have caught myself going a little too happy-go-lucky with the hoe and whacking the tomato plants along with the weeds - if ya know what I mean - to help the story flow better. I think if I try writing like this again, I won't stretch things out so far in bringing about closure to open-ended details since my chapters roll out with days or weeks in between… and even after the story is complete, I shouldn't expect anyone to chain-read too much in one go to connect the dots. Anyway, thanks for the food for thought. Also, yeah, Tofa will definitely have a strong presence in this story. We'll see some more of Firebrand and let's just say there will be some unlikely pairings while class is in session.


	5. Slap in the Face

**Slap in the Face**

Hiccup held a small, wooden pawn in his hand, delicately stroking it with the side of his thumb. Toothless never was a fan of board games, so playing Hnefatafl with another human being was a rare treat. Before meeting Toothless, peer pressure prevented anyone from playing with the "worthless little fishbone." After the dragon war ended, he was always too busy training dragons and riders, exploring with Toothless, and tinkering with the tailfins, saddles, and rigging. So, when his father suggested a game, he was all-in.

After the torrent of questioning and well-wishing ever since arriving on Berk, Hiccup ended up eating in the Great Hall and hasn't left since. His sore ribs wouldn't allow him to go far, but he was already feeling a lot better.

From across the table, Stoick said, "You can go forward, left, or right, but up isn't really an option."

Hiccup placed the pawn on the back of his hand and flapped his fingers, pantomiming a dragon flying. "Maybe he's a dragon rider. Besides, Toothless says he likes the way it feels."

Stoick flicked his eyes up to the dragon, whose head was crowning his rider, looking at the pawn with keen interest. "Come again?"

Hiccup chuckled. "Remember this past Summer, when I blindfolded myself and drew a bunch of stuff in my bedroom with Toothless? I was working on strengthening my ability to hear his unspoken words. He could project what he was seeing and it was as if _his_ eyes were _my_ eyes. Remember that?"

"Ya. I also remember that piece belongs on the board."

Hiccup sighed as he set the pawn down. It was a standard first move for the attacker. The defender, with his guards at the center of the board, starts by peeling away his layers of pawns around the king to open up a pathway. The logical response for the attacker would be to thin out the king's protection and prevent it from reaching a corner of the board. Stoick bid thirteen turns to do that, so Hiccup had to capture it before then.

Hiccup said, "Well, I can project what I see for Toothless, too. I'm still getting the hang of it, but he can see through my eyes and really enjoys being able to see fine detail really close up. Sure, he can see night as day and clearly see very far away, but he never noticed that grass has a visible grain structure, for example, or that flower petals have veins. It's not just sight, though. Dragons don't feel a whole lot of texture through their scales as we do, so Toothless finds the sensations I get through my fingers really interesting. The smoothness of this pawn and the texture of the ridges are appealing to him."

Stoick moved one of his defending pawns up and flicked a bead along its track to count his turns. He was up to three by now.

"Uh-huh."

Hiccup slid another pawn over. "Yeah. Toothless is starting to really enjoy what I'm projecting when I, say, squish mud between my toes or rub the pollen off of a flower petal or the feeling of my hair ruffling in the breeze."

As if to make a point, the dragon blew a gentle huff of air on the back of Hiccup's head, closing his eyes and purring in contentment. A sky-blue Terrible Terror, curled up next to the game board, let out a quiet trill in his barely-conscious state. That little dragon showed up on Berk with the boy a couple months ago, after saving him from the brink of death. The dragon lived up to his name of "Dart" as the first thing he did when Hiccup landed was to fling himself at the boy and cling to his shoulder.

Stoick grinned despite himself. "You are some sick, sick dragons."

The Night Fury let out an amused chortle. Hiccup smiled as he slid a pawn over. "Ha! First capture goes to me!"

"You mean kill."

"Capture."

"Kill."

"You didn't have to kill them."

Stoick sighed. He knew _exactly_ what his son was talking about and actually hoped it would arise sooner rather than later. Hiccup hadn't said anything at the time, but it was obvious he was disturbed to see his father enjoy fighting those Outcast bastards on that ship.

"Well, next time I _won't_ free the trapped dragons if that'll make you feel any better," Stoick taunted.

Hiccup rolled his eyes. "That wasn't the _real_ reason we attacked them."

"Firebrand needed an outlet for all his pent-up aggression. It was _you_ who insisted on dragging him with us. Better he sink his claws into their captain than you. Again."

Hiccup scoffed. "This isn't about Firebrand and you _know_ it! Those people on the ship-"

Stoick clicked his tongue in annoyance as he moved his king. "Most of them survived with minimal injuries. Besides, they're Outcasts for Thor's sake. I didn't _have_ to stop Firebrand from going on a rampage-"

"We could have found a better-"

Stoick flicked one of the dead pawns to get his son's attention. "We're _Vikings_ , son. That's what we _do_!"

" _You're_ a Viking," Hiccup almost whispered. "I'm... I'm not."

Stoick actually chuckled as he flicked another bead. He was up to eleven by now. The king was two moves away from escaping and claiming victory unless Hiccup could find a way to intercept.

"So I've heard. I don't think you even know what you're talking about."

Hiccup fumed as he made another move. His method of throwing pawns at the king did little to stop its progress.

"Vikings kill. I don't kill. I'm not a Viking."

Stoick moved a defender to secure the king's escape route and flicked a bead. "But you _have_ killed. _Twice_!"

THUMP!

The four flat slabs of wood that made up the playing board clattered as Hiccup brought his forehead down on top of it. The pawns rattled and fell over. Dart jumped in fright. Toothless wrapped a gummy maw around Hiccup's templed and lifted his head up with a reproving grumble.

"Yes, Father, you're right," Hiccup said sullenly "I had to kill to solve my problems and that is my failure. I am ashamed and I want to avoid _ever_ doing that again."

"That's nonsense and you know it! Take the Skrill, for example. That thing would have killed you if you didn't kill it first."

"Ever ask yourself why she hated me so much? Because she's a Skrill and Skrill hate Night Furies and Night Furies hate Skrill and I rode a Night Fury. This isn't metallurgy science, Dad! They're locked in a blood feud and they don't even know why! There are hardly any of either species left because they actively hunt each other down, trying to drive each other into extinction. I was hoping to help them get out of that rut. I just… put us in a bad position."

Stoick scoffed. "Hiccup, that's almost as silly as saying you regret killing the Red Death."

"We knew _nothing_ about it!"

Silence reigned for a moment. Stoick was too dumbstruck at such a statement.

"Maybe," Hiccup said, "If I had more time after I figured out what it was... maybe I could have come to understand what its motives truly were. Maybe I could have found a more peaceful-"

A rumbling groan next to Hiccup's head interrupted him. Stoick let out a boisterous laugh that drew the eyes of the Vikings scattered about the Great Hall.

"Even your _dragon_ thinks that's hogwash! Don't tell me you regret all of..." Stoick gestured vaguely to Toothless and Dart, "This."

Hiccup deadpanned at his father. _"This_ is the only thing I can be proud of. _This_ is the _one and only_ thing I actually did _right_. And it all started because I did what no _Viking_ would ever do. C'mon, we've been down this road. I regret that we couldn't have found a better solution. What I succeeded in doing with Toothless in those early days, I failed with the Red Death. I regret that you _forced_ my hand. I regret that you wouldn't let me find a better way."

Stoick pushed the game board aside. "Hiccup, that's stupid and you know it. If someone tries to kill you, you kill them first. Ask Toothless how much sleep he's lost from killing the Red Death." He crossed his massive arms. "Toothless, tell him. I'll wait."

Desperation clashed with determination in Hiccup's face. "Who are _you_ to decide who deserves to die, Dad? Are you a god? Have you seen the breadth and depth of eternity? Can you measure the value of someone's life at a glance?"

Stoick scoffed as he casually flicked the pawn at the board. It bounced up and knocked down the king. "No, I am no god. Nor are the Vikings I've killed. Not even the Red Death was a god. You just protect your own and stand for what you know is right. Let the gods intervene when needed without us trying to out-think them."

Hiccup fumed, "I _do_ Stand up for what matters! And Toothless is no god, either-"

Toothless snorted.

Ignoring his dragon, Hiccup continued, "But he backs me up. You've said it yourself after that incident in the kill ring. I've put my lot in with the dragons. I am not ashamed of that and I am not in the least bit sorry."

The chief stiffened on his bench. He didn't like where this was going, so he decided to steer things back on track. He had allowed his son to mope around for too long and it was time to get his head out of the clouds. "Look, all I'm trying to say is you should stop living in the past or you'll miss the present. A future chief has more concerns than what has already happened. Especially the death of vile creatures like the Red Death, the Skrill, and those miserable Outcasts."

"The dragons don't need such a bloody example. They need me to-"

"You're not a bloody _dragon_!" Stoick shouted as he snapped up to lean over the table. "You're my _son!_ Let the _dragons_ take care of _their_ own! _I_ will take care of _my_ own!" Stoick realized his eyes were on Toothless, whose aggressive posture matched his own.

Hiccup ground out, "The dragons need me as an example more than you need me as an heir."

Stoick snapped his eyes back to his son. "Are you really putting the dragons before-"

"Yes!"

Toothless gave out a sharp roar over his rider's outburst. Two pairs of steely green eyes bore defiantly into Stoick's. Hiccup felt that same fiery conviction and determination he exuded when he responded to Astrid's challenge about keeping Toothless and the Red Death's nest a secret when they first discovered it. It was the feeling that there was no room for doubt, only a call to remain steadfast.

"This is so stupid."

Hiccup casually shrugged. "We all have our own priorities. You would know. Toothless is my priority. My first by far."

Stoick dropped down to the bench, Toothless following suit, and slapped a large hand to his forehead, dragging it down his face. For the first time, Hiccup noticed how tired his father looked. It wasn't a matter of whether he really _felt_ tired or not. He simply put aside his stone mask and allowed his face to express himself genuinely.

"Hiccup," He softly said, strangling the pawn in his hand, "There are so many things I would want to do with you."

The boy quirked a smile. "Like wring my neck?"

Stoick looked at the pawn in his hand and set it down. "Tempting as it is, no. There are so many things to teach you. Things I saw for myself that made me a better person. Things that would help you grow up into a responsible and mature adult. But you have become hard-hearted and stiff-necked in these past two years. You think you can just hide behind your dragon and do what you want like a spoiled brat. You think you're above your own father. You _used_ to be meek to receive instruction. Now, you're..."

He paused for a moment and vaguely gestured at the entirety of his son.

Hiccup looked sideways at his Night Fury. "He just gestured to _all_ of me..."

The rider suddenly pressed his hand on the dragon's snout and they made eye contact. Stoick could tell from the flicking of the eyes and the shifting expressions on Hiccup's face that they were having a heated conversation.

"No," Hiccup mumbled as he held that staring contest. "No… Yes… I just need you to… I know... " He flicked his eyes to his father. "No, I don't think he… Yes, I think it'll help… Don't worry…" Hiccup poked the dragon's nose. "Mother hen… Yes, you, Buddy…" He looked over at Dart, who perked up. "There is that."

Toothless groaned and fixed an annoyed glare at Stoick for a moment before spinning around and sprinting out of the Great Hall, swiping at the latch to open the door on his way out. Someone sitting at a table nearby cursed and closed the door. Only the chief, his son, and an agitated Terrible Terror were left at the table.

Hiccup quietly said, "You cannot imagine how much it upset Toothless to ask him to leave me alone with you right now, but here we are. I'm not hiding behind Toothless. I am, once again, the useless little weakling all Vikings have always dismissed as a bumbling idiot."

Stoick had been staring at the door, lost in thought. He heard what his son said, but it took a moment to fully register in his mind. That fire behind Hiccup's eyes flashed out and he seemed so small and lonely with his shoulders scrunched in and head hanging.

"Hiccup," the father softly said, "You know you're not useless or weak or stupid. You just need to learn to act with wisdom and discipline. It's what's _inside_ that matters."

"So, you're trying to tell me there's a bloodthirsty Viking trying to get out?"

WHAM!

Stoick pounded a massive fist into the table and the pawns all jumped. "What I'm _saying_ is you need to stop _dismissing_ your own _father_!"

Hiccup puffed his cheeks and stared at a pawn his hand. "Sorry, sir."

Stoick sighed. They were going in circles and they both knew it. He started to gather the game pieces together, tossing them into the wooden box. Silence reigned for a while, broken only by the clattering of the pawns. Stoick flicked his eyes at the king in Hiccup's hand and he tossed it over.

"For the record, you won." Hiccup said. "Thirteen turns on the dot and I could tell I had no options to stop you."

Stoick smiled sadly. "The king escapes the siege, but what of his people? If he loses everyone he holds dear, what remains but a brokenhearted vagabond?"

Hiccup's breath caught in his throat. He studied his father's solemn expression with his own jaw hanging. "You're referring to Mom?" Stoick gave the barest nod. "First, Mom is taken in the claws of a dragon and now… No, Dad! I didn't mean-"

"The only difference here is you're riding on the dragon's back. I know I've been a pretty shoddy father-"

"Dad!"

"And I make no excuse." Stoick gave a resigned sigh. He was tempted to insist Hiccup act like a good son who respects his father, but wouldn't that have happened already if he had a good father? For too long, the father has been hiding in a corner, covering his eyes, while the chief ran everything. "I suppose I can't really blame you for replacing me with Toothless."

Hiccup looked genuinely hurt. "That's not true!"

Stoick just placed the lid on the box and made no response. The chief wanted to leave, but the father demanded to stay. Declaring an ultimatum and walking away hasn't accomplished much in the past years with the boy.

Quietly, Hiccup said, "Dad, I… I didn't really mean… The dragons need me, too. I've become an example - an ambassador to represent humans to the dragons, you might say. I finally have something worth fighting for. Something that makes life worth _living_."

Stoick drummed his fingers on the table. He made eye contact with a Viking who was getting a mug of ale from the barrel along the wall and waved at him. A moment later, a tankard appeared on the table.

"Thanks, Phlegm!"

"Anytime, chief!"

The mug was thrust at Hiccup, who leaned back. He never liked the stuff.

"C'mon," Stoick said, "At least a couple sips. It'll be good for your ribs."

"I don't think my ribs are the problem, here."

"On that, we are like-minded. Let's forget about heirdom for now. Let's just talk about you. Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third. My son. At least I think."

Hiccup opened his mouth to respond, but Stoick silenced him with a look.

"I'm _trying_ to meet you halfway, but you _have_ to reciprocate. You just don't even recognize how much of an attitude you've developed in the past two years. It's like your dragon has given you-"

"A spine?"

"No! I mean yes! But Alvin had a spine, too, when he betrayed me and my tribe for greed. Alright, let's take this angle. You say that when you first found Toothless in the forest, you freed him where anyone else would have taken his head back as a trophy. On that I completely agree. But you yourself said there was something about you that made you do that. Something special and unique and objectively _good_. I'm not contesting that, but tell me this one thing. Has your dragon strengthened or weakened whatever it is that made you _that_ sort of person?"

Personally, Stoick figured it was a desperate shot to try to relate to his strange son. Get the absent Night Fury involved. Shouting got him nowhere and, now that Hiccup's ever-present shadow wasn't there to make him feel like he was above everyone else, playing such games with logic sounded like it was worth a shot.

Hiccup opened his mouth to talk, but nothing came out. He engaged in a staring contest with Dart as he idly scratched the little dragon's snout, which seemed to settle his mind. "Alright, I'll admit it, Dad. When you're right, you're right. The person who cut Toothless loose and helped him fly has changed into the person I am today. I think we can all agree I've developed in good ways since then, but I can see your point. Toothless always wants to encourage me to 'show my teeth', but I suppose I took the lesson too far if I'm treating my own father like an opponent instead of a friend. That's just not fair."

Stoick raised his eyebrows in shock. Who was this young man sitting across from him? Was it really his son? No snarky wit. No running away to go play with his Night Fury. Just honest, sincere… Gods! He actually sounded _humble_!

"Come again?"

"Toothless' words," Hiccup casually said. "You saw how pissed he was, but after turning a tree into kindling, he's feeling very calm and relaxed now and has to agree with you on that point."

Stoick stared blankly. Dragons, unspoken words, Hiccup constantly holding onto Dart, Night Furies have a long range with all those sensor lobes… Realization dawned on him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't think I'll _ever_ get used to that. Just drink your ale. It'll help with your injuries." _And other problems_ , he internalized. "In fact, I think I could use a-"

A large tankard thumped onto the table.

"Phlegm!" he called out, "You are a gods-damned mind reader!"

Hiccup frowned at his mug as his father downed his. "Of course it'll help. It's a miracle cure-all. Are you cold? Drink ale. Too warm? Ale. Sick, injured, sad, hyper, depressed? Drink up!"

Stoick smiled and said, "I am officially threatening to grab you and pour it down your throat."

Hiccup took a few sips and put on a flagrantly fake smile as he pushed the mug across the table. Stoick couldn't suppress a more genuine smile at the sight. There was a pause as he downed the rest in a few, quick gulps.

Putting on a more serious look, Hiccup said, "Dad, I really do love you and I'm sorry I'm not what you want me to be. I really am, but almost all the dragons in the Archipelago have known nothing but the Red Death's mind control. You've seen for yourself what happens when someone is born a slave, whose mother is a slave, and then is suddenly freed. They don't know how to properly interact with those who have been free all their lives. These dragons are like those slaves. They've had a very rough past, being forced to raid us, and we want peace, not contention and war. I want them to see something better than hatred and blood. This is my calling."

Stoick frowned. "Your _calling_? Hiccup, you need some perspective. You need some time distanced from the dragons. You need to spend some time away from Tooth-"

THUNK!

Hiccup jammed the tip of a knife into the tabletop and gasped in pain from the motion that twisted his torso in just the wrong way. It was the blade he recovered from the inside of the dead Skrill's mouth, the one that took its life.

Dart, who had been curled up to the side, jumped up to all fours and flicked his eyes at the knife, then Hiccup, then Stoick, and back to the knife. He took a quick hop forward and crouched down to jump up on Hiccup's shoulder, but stopped at a hand held out. He nosed Hiccup's ribs with a quick croon and then splayed out on the tabletop again.

Through clenched teeth, Hiccup ground out, "You've seen what happened the _last_ time someone tried to separate me from Toothless."

Stoick rolled his eyes as he stood up. There went that meek and humble son. It was a nice fantasy to dream that it would linger for more than a moment. With a casual flick, he knocked the knife over and it clattered in front of Hiccup. It left a gash in the wood, already lost to his eyes among all the others.

"That's real cute, son. Now put that thing away before you hurt yourself."

Hiccup's glare softened and he eventually cast his eyes to the table. "Gee, never heard _that_ one before. At least you can't tell me to get back inside because that's exactly where I am."

He raised his eyes to track his father, who turned and started to walk out as he waved a dismissive hand.

"Honestly," Stoick said, "I think some fresh air would be better."

########

* * *

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Some have said that Stoick never loved his son. They said that if he did, he'd spend more time with the boy, let him develop on his own more, coddle him more, coddle him less, be more strict, be more forgiving. Stoick allowed his son to experience life and pain and joy and defeat, but anyone who said he never loved his son would quickly apologize after being challenged to Holmgang.

He loved his son no less tonight, but the boy was just acting so… so… Hiccup-like. Stoick took a deep, shaky breath as he pounded down the steps. He had to think things over. He felt unstable, like everything he had worked to build up was crumbling down around him. He felt like…

The father looked back at the large doors to the Great Hall at the top of the steps. When Hiccup had tried his stunt two years ago with the Monstrous Nightmare, Stoick dragged him there by the scruff to confront him. The chief disowned him. He felt betrayed and angry and uncertain and angry again.

Yes, that was what his current mood reminded him of. He had to allow his feet and mind to wander as they pleased as he muddled over his situation.

For all his dreams of raising a strong son to take over as chief of the Hairy Hooligan tribe, he was never there for the boy. Hiccup was _supposed_ to have a mother. He was _supposed_ to have someone to raise him properly while Stoick took care of his tribe.

Little Hiccup was less than a year old when everything fell apart. During a dragon raid that looked like any other, one of the beasts tore through the roof of his home. Stoick rushed in to protect his family. His son was to his left. His wife was to his right.

He grabbed his son.

The dragon grabbed his wife.

After that incident, whenever he voiced his thoughts to the few he could trust to share his doubts and fears, they had told him it was just instinct. "The child is more precious", they would say. "The child is an extension of yourself." "Who woulda guessed the dragon woulda done _that_?" Yet, Stoick had always told himself that he chose _wrong_. A wife can bear more children. Saving her would have been the more logical thing to do.

Those first few years were so very rough on Stoick. He aged so terribly. After one particularly bad raid, he actually tried to kill his son. The dragons took so much food, homes were on fire, _people_ were on fire or freezing to death. The crying of little Hiccup because he soiled himself tipped Stoick over the edge. He figured the child was weak and frail, anyway, born before his time. He was a defect. A useless failure. Worthless.

Stoick closed his eyes as he relived that moment when he held the infant over the edge of a cliff in his outstretched hand. It was during the dead of night. The full moon watched in pale horror and the stars shone like a thousand eyes full of disappointment.

It had seemed so easy to be rid of this burden and free himself from his guilt. He looked at little Hiccup and willed his hand to tip and drop his charge. In the child's desperate eyes, Stoick saw Val's normally soft and loving eyes glare in venomous defiance. In the child's frantic crying, he heard her voice.

"You made your choice when you sacrificed me to save him. Now, you wish to spit on my empty grave?!"

"I ain't spit'n nobody's grave, chief!"

A gruff voice shook Stoick back to the present. He didn't realize he had spoken out loud. Ack stood in front of him with a torch in his hand, lowered to his waist so it wouldn't blind either of them. The flickering flame cast shadows that jumped around in his gray, scraggly beard. His usual cheery expression contrasted sharply against Stoick's.

"Oh, sorry, Ack. Just mumbling. How's the watch?"

"Boring as ever. Can't say I mind the quiet, though it kinda makes you miss the dragon raids, eh? Or another Berserker raid." In a whiny imitation voice, "Hey, Berk has dragons and I want 'em so let's go kill 'em all. Oh gods! The dragons breathe fire! Our ships are on fire! I _never_ could have seen that coming!"

They shared a laugh at that and Stoick gave Ack a friendly slap on the shoulder as they parted ways. Left to his own thoughts again, Stoick allowed his feet to roam without course.

Of course, he couldn't follow through with the deed. He really did love his son. Besides, he had chosen to save his son, not his wife. To fail to protect _him_ would be to dishonor _her_. How much worse it would be to give into temptation and kill the little thing.

Stoick let out a hollow laugh. The echoes bouncing off the surrounding rock walls startled him for an instant. Looking around, he just realized where his feet had taken him.

The kill ring.

It looked exactly the same as it had for centuries. Though too dark to see, Stoick could envision almost every gouge in the walls from claws and axes, every scorch mark from dragonfire, and every splatter of blood, long since washed away by rain and bleached by the sun. In times past, the stone walkway circling above the arena held hundreds of Vikings who gathered to watch the show. Back in his teenage years, Stoick impressed his father by killing a Monstrous Nightmare in front of the entire village. The feeling of pride and accomplishment that filled his heart as he rested his boot on its disembodied head could never be accurately described with words.

In recent years, Stoick could recall the pit of concern that had gnawed at his stomach as he watched a warrior separate a Nadder's head from its body. He always dreaded what he would have to do when little Hiccup became old enough to train to become a warrior. The boy was the chief's son. Sticking him in dragon training was unavoidable, but this was _Hiccup_. He would just die and then Stoick's soul would be in peril for sacrificing his wife and condemning his son.

Stoick had no choice, of course. He waited as long as he could for the lad to grow up and show any sort of dragon-slaying potential. When the law of the land left him with no more time to procrastinate, he put his son in training, went off on the last nest hunt before the winter freeze, and prepared himself mentally to decide on a new heir to replace his dead one and make sacrifices to the gods to appease them.

He never imagined he'd to return to find his son not only survived, but breezed through dragon training. He never imagined his son would betray all that defined a Hooligan and _befriend_ a dragon. He never imagined he would come so close to getting every able-bodied warrior roasted by a mountain of a dragon, only to be saved by Hiccup.

He also never imagined that all the other tribes would threaten to all gang up and raze Berk for fear of being overcome by their dragon-riding neighbor. Teaching them how to befriend a dragon was something Stoick was always hesitant to do, but became the only option to avoid a war with the world. In a week, Hiccup will be training other Vikings from the nearby tribes - not to slay dragons, but to befriend and ride them.

Stoick wanted to make sure things were run smoothly to keep peaceful relationships with the neighboring tribes, so he would run this dragon training and Hiccup could provide some teaching. No no no, that wouldn't do. All the other tribal chieftains had their eyes on Hiccup. If he didn't run the show, they would see him as Stoick's unwitting pawn and that would be… politically unwise.

Stoick would oversee everything and keep the peace, but Hiccup would have to be at the helm. Yes, that's just how it would have to be. Best to start early in establishing respect in their eyes for his eventual chiefdom. Besides, the only thing that helps a man consistently make the right decisions is experience, after all. Hiccup will have his successes and failures and Stoick will just have to pray the boy doesn't get chewed on by too many dragons or angry Vikings… or start a war or something like that.

After all, little Hiccup was the expert on all things scaled nowadays. In the past, during the dragon raids, Stoick had been the expert. He'd made it his life's goal to be the best at killing dragons. There was more to his success than just strength and determination. He studied the beasts. He dissected them, inspected them, learned how they were put together and how they could be taken apart.

Stoick chuckled at himself.

"What do you _really_ know about dragons, anyway?"

His own voice sounded like that of a condescending stranger, some nameless man judging him. It felt oddly soothing to hear.

"Well? What _do_ you know?"

As he slid a hand along the iron rail over the arena, an unexpected deformation threw him off-balance. He stumbled, but caught himself before falling. It was a drop he could make, but to fall unprepared might break a leg or twist an ankle.

Stoick's breath caught in his throat. A shadow slithered through the darkness below. Something was down there.

With fingers wrapped solidly around the rail, he stood as still as the rock around him. The shadow continued to creep across the floor of the arena. Two large, pale-green eyes looked up at him. At first, he thought it was Toothless, but there was no Hiccup. Besides, that shade of green was lighter than he was used to seeing in a Night Fury's eyes.

Firebrand never got close to anyone, but would find various high perches to look down on the village. It was a bit unnerving, but he wouldn't be here for long. What he was doing down here was anyone's guess, but he has been peaceful so far.

Stoick brushed his hand across the section of iron rail that made him stumble. It was where he had brought down his warhammer in rage when his son first tried to tell the tribe to pet dragons instead of kill them, when Stoick realized that his son hadn't magically turned into a dragon-slaying prodigy, but a liar and a traitor. At least, that's how he saw it at the time.

 _Didn't that go swimmingly?_

Finally, he brought his eyes up to meet the gaze of the Night Fury. In one swift move, he ducked between two of the rails and jumped down to the arena floor, rolling on impact and coming up to a crouch. The dragon didn't even flinch.

Stoick slowly circled around the ring, brushing a hand over wooden crates, barrels, and racks of weapons and shields. Someone had left them out overnight. Someone will be running a lap around the island, tomorrow.

The dragon matched his pace, circling around across the arena.

"I'll tell you what I know about dragons. I know how to exploit their weaknesses."

Firebrand snorted and continued his slow pacing, casually sniffing at the various items along the way. A tongue flicked out at the head of a warhammer, but the beast froze just before licking it and resorted to sniffing instead. Stoick didn't know why the dragon was here. Firebrand most likely wasn't listening and wouldn't care about anything he had to say, anyway.

"I know that the safest place to stand around a Nadder is right in front of its nose. I know that the shield is actually the best weapon against Terrible Terrors. Whack 'em and stomp 'em while they're stunned.

I know that a Monstrous Nightmare can't do _this."_

Stoick shifted his jaw left and right in demonstration. The Night Fury let out a wide, jaw crackling yawn.

"Yep. Unlike you and me, a Monstrous Nightmare has a locked jaw. Once it latches onto something, there's no way in Hel it's letting go unless it chooses to. However, that also means that if you swing a hammer sideways at its jawline, you can break the hinge and its mouth just hangs askew, unable to breathe fire or bite you. I also know that if you manage to grab a Gronckle's wing and twist it _just_ the right way, you can easily tear it out of its socket. Doesn't even take much strength to do it."

Stoick idly picked up a shield from a rack and inspected it. The familiar emblem of a Monstrous Nightmare was illuminated by the light of the stars and moon that managed to peek through the clouds. He grinned over at Firebrand.

"I also heard that Night Furies never miss. Is that true?"

A deep intake of air sounded out from across the ring, then the familiar screech of a Night Fury on a fire run. Stoick flicked his wrist to send the shield sailing through the air. A bright bolt of blue shot out of the dragon's maw and cracked the shield into a few pieces that loosely flopped around on the torn metal rim. The broken shield bounced off the arena wall and clattered to the floor. Dragon and Viking continued their slow pacing.

"It was two years ago when Hiccup stood where you are right now, Firebrand. Did he ever tell you about that one?"

Stoick knew the beast could understand him through some form of telepathy. He knew that the sum of all his conversations with his son couldn't hold a candle to what the boy had conveyed to Firebrand with those unspoken words in sharing his life's story. "As fast as one can think" was how the boy described it. Stoick also knew Firebrand seemed to be completely ignoring him, but that only helped him work through his thoughts.

"Ya, our young men train here to fight dragons... well, _had_ until the raids stopped. Hiccup managed to outshine everyone else and earned the honor of being the first in his class to kill a dragon... a Monstrous Nightmare... in front of the village at that! I was so proud of him. I had envisioned how _glorious_ it would be to see _my_ son kill his _first_ dragon."

Stoick gave a flat stare. "I've heard you've seen for yourself how good he is at doing just that."

The dragon continued to ignore the chief in his idle shuffling. Hiccup had told about when he fought Firebrand in what was basically an informal Holmgang and couldn't bring himself to draw even a single drop of blood. The boy also tried to stop the fighting between the Night Furies and that Skrill. When they forced the beast to land, he just ran up and tried to _tame_ it. A head-butt from Tolerant saved him, but cost the dragon's life. The Skrill unleashed a bolt of lightning so potent it would have turned Hiccup into a pile ash. Instead, it hit Tolerant right in the face and fried his brain and guts. Even in the dark, Hiccup said he could see the acrid smoke pouring out of the eye sockets.

Stoick tried to use that as a lesson. Ending a fight decisively takes precedence over all else. There's a time for being idealistic and during a fight for survival simply isn't it. Hiccup would hear none of that, though. Even when clenched in the Skrill's maw, he said he still held out for hope for resolving things peacefully. It was only the realization that the Skrill was using the rider to taunt and torture Toothless that drove him to actually kill it.

"Yep. Before Hiccup fought the Monstrous Nightmare, I had heard stories of training sessions where Hiccup chased a Zippleback back into its cage and he dropped a Nadder with a single blow to the chin. I knew that the Monstrous Nightmare stood no chance at all. Of course, Hiccup didn't try to kill the dragon. Instead, he tried to show us that dragons can be friends instead of enemies. Are you sure Hiccup and Toothless haven't told you about this one?"

Stoick grinned at the Night Fury, who was casually sniffing at a weapon rack. He continued his story to himself.

"You can probably guess I was pissed. I was _beyond_ angry. I shouted, I cursed, I swung my hammer, I made a lot of noise. I ended up spooking the Monstrous Nightmare into a blind rage."

Stoick spared a sideways glance at the dragon, who was pawing at the shield he destroyed with his fire.

"Of course, that's _exactly_ what I had in mind when I struck the iron rail with my hammer. I _wanted_ to spook the dragon. For just a single moment of madness, I _wanted_ my son to die and the dragon was to be my weapon. I actually wanted to kill my _son_. How sick is that?!"

Firebrand had the broken shield clamped between rows of teeth with a proud look on his face. With a flick of his neck, it landed at the chief's feet. Wood groaned and nails popped out as he peeled the iron rim off of the shield. He hefted one of the larger pieces of wood in his hand and heard another deep intake of air. Another flick of his wrist sent the wood slab flying, only to be intercepted by an explosive bolt of blue fire. Both Viking and dragon continued their pacing around each other.

"Yep. For fifteen years, I looked after him as best I could, which isn't saying much. I loved the boy, no matter what people said. Then, in an instant, I decided that forcing a dragon to kill him instead of lick him would be a good idea. Ya gotta understand, I felt so betrayed. I felt so... so... insulted!"

Stoick knew it wasn't the Night Fury he was trying to convince. He flicked his eyes over to Firebrand to see him licking at a war hammer that was lying on the ground. Making the quartermaster run around the island wouldn't be good enough. He'll run the perimeter on an empty stomach. Twice.

"Do you know what _really_ made my blood boil? After _centuries_ of enduring fire and theft and death from dragon raids, I wanted nothing more than to find the source and eliminate it. That's how we _do_ things. We fight with valor and gladly accept Valhalla to protect those we love. But when Hiccup tried to show us that we could befriend dragons instead of kill them, I felt cheated. I didn't see a possible solution, but a threat to the principles that guided me in life. I saw a future in which all the past sacrifices and heroism amounted to absolutely _nothing_!

Firebrand found some bolas to paw at, clawing at the ropes and tumbling the stone weights across the ground. The behavior was oddly reminiscent of a cat when exposed to a ball of yarn.

"So, I got angry and spooked the Monstrous Nightmare. He chased the boy around this very kill ring, coughing out fire and snapping his teeth. Do you know how _that_ ended?"

The Night Fury held the ropes of the bolas in his toothless mouth, gently swinging the weights from side to side.

"I'll tell you what happened. The dragon killed Hiccup and ate him!"

Firebrand slipped and stumbled over one of the stone weights. His jaw smacked against the ground with a suppressed yelp before he got his feet under him again. He turned and glared at Stoick.

"Ha! I knew you were listening! That's what you get for being a mute, though. You become a sounding board for an old war horse."

A diffident snort was the chief's only response.

A spear found its way into the toothless maw. Stoick recognized it as one of the training spears with a wooden ball as a head so it doesn't cause any serious injuries if someone gets hit by it. Its main purpose was to teach Vikings to be decisive and aggressive in taking control of the weapon or warding it off with their shield. In most cases, the best defense was a very aggressive offense.

Stoick sighed.

"And now this old war horse just doesn't know what to do in this new world. I sometimes have a hard time accepting it. My whole life has been spent protecting my people from your kind and now we rub shoulders with ya. I've already accepted that _my_ time is past. It's time for me to step down and let someone more capable lead our village into this strange future. That's a given, but what do I do with little Hiccup? He's not ready. Not even close. How am I supposed to help him if I don't even know what to do with _myself_?"

Stoick looked over to see that teeth now filled the maw as Firebrand gnawed on the wooden spearhead. He casually picked up a bola at his feet and was about to chuck at the dragon so he'd drop the spear, but a thought came to mind. He dropped the bola and, in two rapid steps, held the shaft of the spear in his hand. Firebrand narrowed his eyes and pulled back. Stoick grinned at the tug of war he found himself engaged in. His grin turned into an evil smirk as he suddenly lunged forward, not enough to hurt the dragon, but enough to make him gag and release the spear.

Stoick smiled broadly at the snarling dragon. "Firebrand, you're a _genius_! Why didn't I think of that before?! We could kill two dragons with one… errr, two birds with one stone. I would like to make a deal with you."

The snarling softened a little. Stoick slid the spear through his fingers, allowing the butt-end to thump against the dusty stone floor.

"You're not going to be here long, right? You're going on to try to find other Night Furies? You may encounter Vikings who are less... receptive to your kind than us. You may have to defend yourself against armed warriors or dragon trappers. You may even find yourself stuck in a snare."

The dragon started pacing back and forth as he listened.

"I've seen a Night Fury in a proper fit of rage. I know how deadly you can be. But you're only one dragon and dragon trappers aren't real fans of playing fair. I would like to teach you a bit about how you can even the odds. I can show you how to lay any Viking flat on his back no matter how well-armed he is or how greatly you're outnumbered. I can also show you common snares and baits you may encounter so you don't fall prey yourself."

Firebrand walked right up to Stoick, nose-to-nose. Stoick knew he had the dragon's full attention, now.

"I have only one condition."

Firebrand could have been made of stone for how motionless and silent he was. Turning Hiccup into another Stoick was backfiring and hurting everyone involved, but that didn't stop Stoick from making sure the _rest_ of his tribe, both Vikings and dragons alike, were as well-prepared as they could be for any sort of threat from air, land, or sea. Gaining favor with a dragon who would be flying to gods-know-where would only be for the better.

"You know how Hiccup is. You've seen how little he thinks things through and how much he gets himself into trouble. The moment you find a mate and get some baby Night Furies running around, he will hunt you down and belly-flop into the pile of scales with reckless abandon. My one condition for training you is that you will never attack Hiccup… again. No matter what, under no circumstances will you ever harm my boy. And if you're in a position to intervene on his behalf, you will do so.

"So, do we have a deal?"

The dragon chuffed as he bounced back a few times and wiggled his rump. He looked just like Toothless in his playful mood when wrestling with his rider. It was as close to a handshake as Stoick could imagine from such a creature. As Firebrand curled his haunches, the chief readied the training spear, holding it against his waist. It would do nothing more than bruise, but bruises make for excellent teachers.

"Lesson one..."

Firebrand launched himself into the air with what the chief could have sworn was glee. He grinned widely at the descending form. The old war horse and the young, prideful dragon have finally found their proper place.

* * *

 **A/N:  
** "Thanks for reading. Also, thank you guest for stroking my ego with your review. Oh, and in other news, JR 0 has started beta reading my stuff, starting with this chapter. So, if my writing appears more cohesive and less crappy, you can thank him and for that and- Uh, oh. My author's note is in quotation marks. That can mean only one thing."

"That's right! Toothless is here! Bow before me! ABASE YOURSELF BEFORE YOUR MASTER!"

"Toothless, get out of here! Bombing my author's notes is not in your contract. This is live! I can't edit this in post! What do you think you're doing, anyway?"

"Exposition. Duh!"

"But you can't talk. You're a _dragon_. You're supposed to maintain continuity with your character throughout the entire story. It's in your contract, section 3.1 A, subsection VII. Besides, how are you going to explain to our poor, confused reader how you're talking? And don't you dare even _think_ about mentioning dragonese!"

"But... but... fourth wall breaking! This way, I get to tell them about where the plot is going from here. Yeah, you see, Hiccup dies heroically saving me from an army of eel-shooting warriors and-"

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"But then I revive him with my dragon magics, see. Oh! But in doing so, I turn him into a Night Fury and we both use our combined dragon magics to re-grow my tail fin and-"

"But that doesn't even-"

" _Then_ we fly around the world and discover a super secret Night Fury Illuminati congregation next to Santa's workshop and I beat their alpha senseless and assume command and make a deal with Santa Clause to save Christmas and-"

"Toothless, that is the silliest thing ever! You just mashed together, like, half of the httyd fanfics. Besides, it's obvious the actual plot is headed toward something else, entirely. You're gonna scare away the reader!"

" _My_ plot is better."

"It sounds fun, but I kinda like the idea of poking and prodding at Hiccup's pacifist, conscientious nature in a war-hungry society and-"

"Blah blah! Right, whatever. So, _then_ we learn how to travel into the future and-"

"There's gotta be an eel around here, somewhere-"

"Tony Stark makes some Iron Man suits, but, ya know, for Night Furies and-"

"Wait, _what?!_ You can't just add Iron Man to a story and assume he instantly makes it better!"

"Two words for you, mr squishy."

"..."

"Spider Man."

"Oh. Point."

"Exactly. _Never_ question a dragon. Anyway, my Night Fury Iron Man suit is _so_ cool. It's got rockets and lasers and an unnecessarily complicated helmet so you can see my facial expressions between battles."

"It was yellow with green spots. I know I saw that slimy thing only a little while ago..."

"I mean, I glow brighter in that suit than when I went Super Saiyan in the second movie. Oh! And chrome black with red highlights is _totally_ my color palette. And then the AI in my suit is linked up to everything in the world, but I hack it with my telepathy and it's like Skynet, but I'm in control-"

"How can I miss it? It was _right here_ -"

"And _then_ , we beat Odin in a game of Hnefatafl to make him recharge our magical reserves or whatever and I can shoot frickin laser beams from my eyes, so we could go _back_ in time-"

"Ah! There it is!"

"To stop WWII. How? I'll tell you. Two words. Baby- Gah! Eel! Nyaaaaaah!"


	6. Moving On

**Moving On**

Tofa idly whistled a joyful tune as she hopped along the winding pathway. It twisted through a cleft with sheer rock walls and was filled with tripping hazards, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. She may be only nine, but that wouldn't stop her from reaching her target.

Already, the deep whooshes of Skullcrusher's wings were fading to nothing. The dragon was kind enough to give her a ride since Stoick wanted to be alone, anyway. She asked him to drop her off outside the cove in case Toothless and Hiccup were asleep. Though Tofa was no rider, she was a good friend to all dragons on Berk.

With her target in mind, she pressed onward through the rocky trench. She knew that she was getting closer to Toothless and Hiccup. Their passive hum, which all dragons and people emit, was getting stronger. As far as she knew, no other human could even come close to the range she can perceive this. The reigning theory being that it was because her uncle set her on daily meditations to hear the unspoken words when she was only three. That seemed a lifetime ago, way back before he died.

Of course, any dragon could put her to shame when it came to comparing how far away _they_ could hear the projections.

The sun hadn't quite risen and the rocky walls on either side didn't permit much starlight to penetrate down, so Tofa was hard-pressed to see the obstacles in her path. Fortunately, the six Terrible Terrors, who always followed her around, absolutely _loved_ to play games and compete with each other. Their eyesight in the dark was better than Tofa's, so they would flitter ahead and perch on any rocks or exposed roots with their wings fanned to mark it for Tofa.

 _{Watch out here, Butterfly. You probably can't see me too well, but I'm just in front of you.}_

"Thanks, Swoop!" Tofa rewarded the little dark-green dragon by scooping him up and scratching his belly. Swoop wriggled and writhed in pleasure and the others started chirping in agitation. The game was on. There was _no_ way they'd allow him to get _all_ the belly rubs!

Tofa took a few more steps to see two brightly colored Terrors, one orange and one yellow, fighting to perch on something. As she drew closer, she could barely make out a nasty-looking exposed root poised to take her down in a painful way. She patiently waited until one managed to shove the other off and establish dominance before scooping her up for her reward.

"Saved my life there, Flit! I woulda tripped over that root and busted my chin right open." The dragon melted into a writhing pile of bliss under Tofa's famous belly rub. Well, they were famous among the Terrors, at least. Even Gothi's Terror, Nose, would often appear with some sort of tribute for a belly rub.

A large rock in the middle of the path was marked by three Terrors, each trying to shove the others off and establish dominance. Tofa rushed in and batted away the teal and blue ones so she could scoop up the purple one.

As she reduced the dragon to a puddle under her fingers, she chided, "Now, boys, don't be rough with Shrill. She's carrying eggs and I don't want you damaging her babies!"

The response was immediate.

 _{That's not fair!}_

 _{Dive, you scratched me! That_ hurt _!}_

 _{I had established dominance! She should be rubbing_ my _belly!}_

 _{This belly rub is so amazing!}_

 _{Shut up, Shrill!}_

 _{Well I mated Shrill, so if her eggs give her precedence, I deserve a belly rub, too.}_

Tofa paused in thought for a moment. "Good point, Nip. C'mere!"

She continued in this way until she finally broke out of the narrow cleft and into a mossy landing. The pink sky was just starting to brighten and light managed to penetrate into this area. It was absolutely beautiful, spotted with trees and bushes, covered in grass and purple wildflowers, with a trickling waterfall that fed into a pond. The entire cove was completely surrounded by tall, majestic, stone walls that made her feel safe and cozy.

Target spotted, Tofa took off at a sprint. As she approached, a large, green eye pop into view from under its eyelid. Its vertically slit pupil locked in on her, then the eye snapped shut.

 _{I'm still asleep.}_

Flit shot her bright yellow form forward to dive and wriggle into the void beneath where Toothless' front leg joined his torso. Tofa noticed Terrors love to do that, snuggling into tight places. Swoop flung himself at the dragon's hindquarters, only to be greeted with a black tailfin to the face. With complete disregard for personal space, Tofa climbed up onto the dragon's back, shouting out her joy.

"Toothless! Firefly! Dart!"

A sky-blue Terrible Terror popped up from underneath the Night Fury's wing and started chasing the others around. It didn't take long for them to forget who was chasing who, which devolved into grappling and tumbling. Last night, Tofa could tell that Hiccup's Terror was feeling sullen, so playing with the others should work wonders to cheer him up.

A muffled voice drifted out from somewhere beneath the dragon. "Mmmphh. Mor'n Tofa. Or should-" A yawn cut off the disembodied voice. "I say 'Little Butterfly.'"

Tofa smiled at that. Very few Vikings would use her 'dragon name', but Hiccup was always a special one. She slid down to Toothless' outstretched foreleg to the sparse grass under his head. As she poked her head up over his foreleg, she received a lick on the cheek from Flit that made her giggle like, well, a little girl. A black wing lifted up to reveal Hiccup slowly rolling out from under Toothless to carefully stand up, grunting with the effort.

"Pardon me, Tofa, but I need to answer nature's call."

As Hiccup sauntered off to water a tree at the edge of the cove, Toothless got up, stretched his back and legs like a cat, extending his wings until the membranes crackled and the joints popped. He took off in a different direction to take care of similar needs.

To pass the time and grant them privacy from her eyes, Tofa grabbed some sticks and fed the coals in the subdued fire ring. The sticks had tooth marks in them, which seemed odd to her until she remembered that Hiccup's ribs were still healing. The dragon must have collected the wood for him.

A few of her Terrors offered their fire and flapped wings to get the fire going, turning yet another mundane task into a competition, knocking each other out of the way and demanding they were doing better. Well, they also almost set the entire cove ablaze, but they did put out the collateral fires. By the time Hiccup and Toothless returned, the fire inside the ring was ripping pretty well. There was even still a little bit of grass in the general vicinity that had escaped the flames.

Tofa looked up at Hiccup. "How's your ribs, sir?"

The rider smiled down at her as he idly rubbed a hand over his right side. "Getting better. They've been healing for less than a week, but feel a lot better already. It's not my ribs I'm worried about, though."

"Stalwart," Tofa mumbled. "I could tell something was up. He seemed... lost... disappointed. His hum was very sad and... dis... dis..."

"Discordant? Yes." Hiccup heaved out a sigh. "We had a heart-to-heart. We don't always see eye-to-eye-"

Toothless rudely snorted.

"Alright, we almost _never_ agree on anything, but he really is doing his best for me by his own values. He's counting on me to be his heir and take over as chief one day and it scares me and I don't know what that means for the dragons but it could actually be a very good thing with such authority in my hand, but…" Hiccup stared at the ground and sighed. "I think he knows I'm trying to do what's right, but what's right in _my_ eyes and _his_ eyes are a little different."

A squawk from above shook Tofa's attention from the duo as she saw Stormfly dive into the cove. The moment her talons touched the ground, Tofa threw herself at the dragon's head in a warm embrace. Stormfly scooped her head down to receive Tofa and lift her up as she draped herself over the dragon's snout.

Once Tofa's feet found the ground again, she spun around and jumped up into Astrid's arms. The shieldmaiden had become Tofa's sister after moving to Berk this past Spring. Tofa never had a sister before and loved spending many days just playing with her Terrors while watching Astrid throw axes at trees.

"Hiccup, your father is going to _kill_ you for coming out here in your condition!" Astrid said as she cleared the paces between them with Tofa dangling from her shoulder. She frowned at Hiccup. "You should be sleeping in a bed at home, not risking breaking your ribs again by riding Toothless."

"Well, I'm glad to see you, too, Miss Bossy."

Astrid took a long, inquisitive look at Toothless.

"He's a bit grouchy," Hiccup said in answer to the unvoiced question. "After last night, he can't decide if he likes Dad more or hates him more. Toothless wants to lick him and maul him at the same time."

Toothless projected for his rider the technicalities that would prevent him from both licking and mauling a man simultaneously. _{I think I'll maul him first._ Then _I'll lick him.}_

Tofa squared against Toothless with her arms crossed. "You will do no such thing. Well, you can lick Stalwart, but no mauling. He's a nice man, even though he can be boring when he talks about adult stuff."

 _{Then maybe just a slap to the face with my tailfin.}_

Tofa tsked. "Bad dragon. I'm going to have to teach you a lesson." She grinned as she lunged at Toothless and wrapped her arms around his foreleg. The dragon didn't even budge.

"You alright down there?" Astrid asked.

Tofa looked up at Astrid as Toothless dragged her around. "I was trying to drag him down, but something went wrong." Tofa suddenly noticed the smirk on Toothless' face and the pond up ahead. "Oh no! Don't you dare, Toothless. Terrors, attack! Tickle him to death!"

All six of her Terrors dropped their game of chasing each other to flock around Toothless in favor of this new game. However, they were uncertain about the objective and how to prove themselves better than the others.

"Oh, c'mon," Tofa chided. "Just tickle him. Like Firefly does. Go for his pressure points. We must tickle him into submission and save Stalwart!"

Toothless reared up as the Terrible Terrors all dove in. Nip tried latched onto his neck and started licking the base of his sensor lobes. Swoop went for the spot under the chin he has seen Vikings target to make a dragon pass out from an overload of bliss. Shrill just perched her purple form on the saddle, content to just be queen of the mountain.

Toothless flung himself about, careful not to step on Tofa. He scraped the Terrors off with his paw, but they just darted at him again and resumed trying to tickle him with their tongues and claws. He ended up grabbing Tofa in his front paws, holding her tight against his torso, and jumped into the pond belly-up to be rid of the Terrors. Tofa was no stranger to swimming, but it took a moment to figure out which way was up. There was no worry, though. Toothless would _never_ harm her. She surfaced to see a gummy smile.

"You alright over there?" Hiccup asked from the shore. "You're being very gentle with her, Bud, right?"

 _{Of course I am. He can't hear me that far away, so tell him that.}_

Tofa climbed up onto the dragon's back and said, "Toothless says yes."

 _{That's not what I said!}_

"Close enough."

A roar from above grabbed everyone's attention to Firebrand swooping in for a landing. Well, Tofa assumed that was the intent, but it looked more like a belly flop followed by a tumble. Unphased, he picked himself up and practically pranced around them with uncontainable joy. Tofa could see images and memories he was projecting of his recent activities. Apparently, he was fighting and training with Stoick all night long, learning how to deal with different weaponry and tactics. Some other early-rising Vikings actually joined in to help train the dragon in dealing with ambushes and mass attacks.

As the dragon pranced around, Tofa noticed he had a minor limp, some broken scales, and bruising visible even on his black hide. Some of the images explained why. Even though Stoick had used only dull weaponry that could not cut or pierce, the blows from the spears, swords, and axes still had some effect. Stoick had been teaching the dragon to deal with these weapons, showing how they were used and demonstrating the consequences of failing to dodge or take control of an enemy's weapon. Firebrand had, of course, given Stoick a similar thrashing, but this served as a much-needed release of pent-up energy for both of them that left them feeling free, joyful, and alive, if not sore and stiff.

All these details were thrown out in hardly a breath of time and it made Tofa's head spin. Telepathic communication usually never happened that fast, but Firebrand was just brimming with excitement to spew everything out all at once.

As Toothless dragged himself back onto land, Tofa jumped down and ran toward Firebrand with her arms held out wide, Terrors swarming just behind. Her plan to give him a big hug was interrupted when he reared back with a snarl, teeth bared, and wings flared. Toothless leaped forward to wrap a tail around Tofa, but Firebrand had already retreated a couple steps and settled down.

 _{Careful, Butterfly! Firebrand is not like me. He has known only isolation and strife.}_

Tofa scrunched in on herself. "Sorry, Mr. Firebrand sir."

Firebrand looked at her inquisitively. _{What sort of attack was that? Stalwart just spent all night showing me ways land-striders would try to kill or capture me, but he never just ran at me with his arms wide-open like that.}_

Tofa and Toothless shared a look and burst out laughing, rolling around on the ground.

 _{It was a sign of affection, my silly clutchmate. Land-striders like to do that a lot. Even when the demonic queen forced us to raid them, they have always found time to revel in the simple joys of life in expressing their affection for each other and just playing around. You really would gain a lot by living here and accepting a rider.}_

Firebrand snorted. _{I think I would go crazy if I did that. Besides,_ somebody _needs to find out if there are females out there and keep our species going.}_

 _{I'll get to that soon enough.}_

 _{With a missing tailfin? What about the mating flight with her?}_

 _{I have Firefly to help me fly.}_

 _{And how will you fight her in the air to prove your worth with a rider she could easily pluck off your back?}_

Toothless cast a glance at his rider, who was coming up to scratch his dragon's eye ridges and become part of this conversation. Hiccup grinned at Firebrand.

"Oh, well, I'll take care of _that_. After you mate with a Night Fury, when Toothless finds his girl, we'll just explain how Toothless kicked your butt. If you can beat a female and Toothless can beat you, then the logical conclusion is obvious. You dragons love logic, right? It's transitivity at work!"

Firebrand snarled. _{That doesn't count! Toothless surprised me.}_

Toothless shoved his rider to the side and crouched to lunge at Firebrand. Just then, Skullcrusher thumped down between them and spun around, forcing them to retreat from his flail of a tail.

"Break it up, you two," Stoick said as he dismounted. The Night Furies snorted at each other, but that was it.

As Stoick descended, Tofa noticed that he actually looked happy. She knew he hasn't had a single wink of sleep for a couple days, but his face no longer sagged as it had before. His movements were stiff, but his eyes shone with a certain determination and joy she hadn't seen for quite a while.

"Great!" Hiccup groaned in annoyance, arms flapping. "Why don't we see how many dragons and Vikings we can fit into _my_ cove. We'll make it a contest!"

"Well good morning to you too, Son. Seems you didn't like my order to go home and rest and _not_ ride your dragon. Good to see you're really maturing and showing respect for your old man. Impressive as always. Also good to see Toothless had the decency to look out for you instead of mindlessly serve as your pony."

"Da-" Hiccup said as he flailed his arms in exasperation, but gasped and fell to his knees in pain as the outburst hurt his rib. He caught his breath and said, "Toothless knew I knew my limits and I just needed a place to think things through and he was very gentle with the take-off and landing and he was purring all night and says that helps me heal faster and-"

Stoick put a hand to Hiccup's mouth. "Absolutely none of that matters and you know it. What does matter is that you disobeyed me. Again. You say I am a father to you and yet I'm not even a trusted friend. I realize I've been a terrible father all your life and I've been demanding you to be someone the gods never wanted you to be, but if you live under my roof, you live by my rules."

Hiccup scrunched in on himself. "Dad, you're not a terrible father. You're just… Dad. And I'm sorry, alright? Listen, about last night-"

"We need to talk.".

"Yeah, I know! I know you're upset and have all these dreams of what I could be... what you want me to-"

"We need to talk about that dragon training you'll be heading in a couple days."

Hiccup took a step back and looked up at his father. "It's important! You _know_ it's the only way to make peace with the other tribes and... why are you grinning like that? Oh, wait, you said I'd be heading it, like I can run it my way?"

"I've been thinking about whether to let you run your own show for this. I know we're all going to regret it, but you get your wish."

Hiccup's face was reminiscent of a beached fish.

"But you are _not_ free from the consequences of your own actions," Stoick said sternly. "Last week, I told you to deliver some letters and come right back home. You disobeyed. You almost got yourself and Toothless killed. I had to find your ass and that had consequences for people here on Berk during my unplanned absence. And _now_ you can't even obey my order to stay off Toothless for a couple more days for your healing ribs.

"Dad, I'm _sorry_."

"Don't lie to me."

"Dad!"

"If you were sorry, you'd do better."

"So I messed up, but-"

"Good. Then you will agree it's only fair that you are grounded until you fly out for that dragon training."

"But Toothless-"

"Is a creature of the sky and still needs to fly, so Astrid can ride him."

"But-"

"Spitelout had to cancel his hunting trip to cover my duties as chief because I had to leave to find my irresponsible son."

"But-"

"And do you think Gothi doesn't have better things to do than dress your wounds? Do you think Toothless _enjoys_ watching you tempt fate again and again?"

Toothless grumbled and shifted his weight uneasily.

"But-"

Stoick put a heavy had on Hiccup's shoulder. "It's time I start acting like a gods-damned father! I _will_ raise my son into a respectable man! Not some overgrown child!"

"But that's almost a _whole week_!" Hiccup almost shouted in dismay.

Stoick narrowed his eyes. "Hiccup, for far too long, I've neglected my son far too much, you've been far too undisciplined, and _you_ ," Stoick turned to Toothless, "Have been far too supportive of Hiccup's reckless lack of discipline. I would expect more wisdom from both of you."

Hiccup sidled to his dragon and reached for a handhold on the saddle. "This has nothing to do with Toothless. He just-"

"Loves you too much and doesn't have the balls to ever say 'No' to you."

Toothless growled softly at that. Stoick knelt down to talk to the dragon snout-to-face. "You know I'm right, Toothless. What is right isn't always desirable or convenient. I'm not denying your love for my boy, but I'm more than twice your age; I know a thing or two. Hiccup needs us to be allies for his own sake, not enemies."

 _{Firefly, as much as I don't like this, I cannot deny his logic. Despite my purring, your ribs hurt more now than last night. You would never have been harmed in the first place by Firebrand or that lightning dragon if I refused to take you to them.}_

"And Tolerant would probably still be alive," Hiccup mumbled in dejection.

Stoick couldn't hear the projected thoughts, but he could tell he had the dragon's support. "Thank you, Toothless. I know you want the best for my son as much as I do. You'll come to thank me someday and wish I started acting like a proper father earlier."

Toothless licked his rider and nuzzled him. _{My precious Firefly, you have been right about so many things when everyone else was wrong. You were not the first to try to shoot me down, but you were the only one to succeed and you knocked me out of the demonic queen's mind snare. You freed me from the snare when any other land-strider would have killed me. You risked everything to help me fly and take down the demonic queen. Your mind is an amazing thing that can conjure up crazy ways to overcome impossible odds, but even you are not perfect. Perhaps Stalwart can help you refine your instincts in a way I am incapable.}_

"But a _whole week_ ," Hiccup groaned. "You can't do this to us. We'll both go _insane_!"

Stoick put a hand behind his son's back. "Chin up. This ain't Ragnarok. We'll go over plans for dragon training after you accompany me in settling some disputes. Mildew's goats-" Stoick coughed suggestively, " _Jumped_ the fence and ate Mulch's cabbage."

"Only if you promise to at least take a nap first. You haven't slept in almost two days straight."

Stoick waved it off. "Bah. I'm fine. I'll sleep later."

"You're going to regret it."

Stoick paused and looked down at his son. "There are many things I regret."

"Join the clan."

########

* * *

########

Toothless took a deep breath of air as he looked out over the ocean. The moon, which was growing fuller by the night, cast a scattered reflection in the waves that lazily slapped against the base of the cliff on which he stood. The air was cool and crisp. It tasted like a freedom as vast as the endless sky above and as close as his rider, standing just past the tip of his tail. Tomorrow, they would be cleared to fly together and could seize this freedom with a vengeance.

Toothless both looked forward to and dreaded this night. The past several days of being denied flight with his rider were pure torture for both of them. However, the next day, they would fly and Firefly would begin training other land-striders to become dragon riders.

Toothless knew he would have to be very vigilant to watch over his rider with so many strange land-striders around. Even though they came to be taught by Firefly, some would surely try to harm or subjugate him. The rider's stunted physique seems to have that effect on land-striders. Toothless could already anticipate that he would need to remind some of them that Firefly is never prey.

That was the bad news.

The good news was that Firebrand decided he had enough exposure to these land-striders. He wouldn't even think about staying for this land-strider training and accepting a rider. It simply wasn't his thing. The main priority he expressed to Toothless was to just search out any female black dragons. There must be more out there, somewhere. Even if he only found those two female clutchmates who flew off a while ago, that would suffice for the immediate future until they find more.

Over the past few days, every time Firefly suggested he and Toothless also go and find a mate, he only got a wet tongue to his face. This Land-strider training was coming up and Firefly would regret missing that. If he could learn to live without a left foot, Toothless could live without a mate, at least for now. The rutting period hasn't gotten _that_ bad, yet.

Toothless pulled himself out of his musings and suddenly whirled around when he saw his rider reaching out toward Firebrand. His instinct was to snarl and yank Firefly away, but he reminded himself things have changed since that night Firefly almost died. Firebrand knew very well who killed the lightning dragon and that alone commanded a deep respect.

The rider's hand made contact with Firebrand's snout and the two froze for a moment, staring into each other's eyes. Any dragon could pick up how someone was feeling through the emotional hum they passively project at all times, but contact like this brought this perception into much sharper focus. It would be like staring into someone's heart and soul. Firefly, though unable to hear much from a dragon without contact, was still able to pick up just as much from Firebrand.

The rider glanced over at his dragon and grinned. _{Toothless, there's no need to be jealous. You know there's room for only one dragon in my heart.}_

Firebrand snorted and Toothless huffed at that statement. The rider was getting very good at projecting clearly-defined thoughts. They almost sounded like they came from a dragon instead of the usual muddy stream most other land-striders project when they think with their lips. It took a lot of practice to get to this point, but other dragons can't help but stop and pay attention to him when he speaks.

Firefly slowly stroked the dragon's snout. _{Firebrand, we know that Toothless was taken by the demonic queen's when he was very young, but why him? And why him alone? You and Tolerant have told us so much about your past, but have always avoided that event.}_

Firebrand took in a deep breath of air and his eyes flicked over to his clutchmate. _{There's a reason we never told you about that.}_ His lips curled back in a toothy imitation of a land-strider smile. _{It is very unflattering.}_

Toothless didn't care. For all he knew, he probably would never see the other dragon again, but now that Firefly brought it up, he wanted to know, too. As with any dragon, he had a perfect memory of everything since he became conscious inside his egg. How he ended up in the demonic queen's nest, though, was all blurry. One moment, he was happily bounding across a snowy field, then there was chaos and confusion, then he was in the demonic queen's nest. He figured that must have been the queen's meddling. It seemed every dragon in her mind snare "remembered" hatching his egg in her nest or being saved from evil land-striders by the "benevolent" queen.

Firebrand huffed and started to project a memory for the rider and his dragon. It wasn't his own, but Tolerant's memory that he had shared some time ago.

In the imagery flashing through his mind, Toothless saw a large group of dragons approaching over the ocean. A flurry of snow angrily whipped around in the wind. Roars, screeches, and the sound of beating wings filled the air.

They were coming from the demonic queen's territory and that could mean only one thing.

Hardly a generation ago, the queen's range of influence was smaller and hundreds of dragons dotted these islands on this side of her mind snare. As her range expanded, she cut off these few islands from the rest of the world, leaving everyone effectively trapped. She seized the minds of those dragons on the islands closer to her nest and used them to enthrall even more dragons. Those who could not be enthralled were killed. Every time the leaves changed colors and fell from the trees, the queen would send a raid.

Wherever dragons nested, blood and scales rained down. Only those who could hide survived and that was one thing black dragons excelled at.

Desperate to end these raids, all the surviving black dragons assumed the colony of land-striders on a nearby island was the cause of the queen's attention on this area. The colony wasn't that large. They never stood a chance and were all wiped out with only a few losses.

It didn't help at all. The raids never ceased. Even losing twenty dragons in the dark cave tunnels for every black dragon, the queen was relentless as she hunted them down one by one. There were eleven black dragons before the previous raid. Tolerant - nameless then - his mate, and their clutch of eggs were the only survivors.

Together, they watched those eggs hatch. They worked tirelessly to feed their hatchlings and watched them grow. However, he was caught off-guard when the next raid came early. The leaves had hardly started to change color when the sky was filled with the wings and challenging roars of the queen's enthralled dragons.

His clutch was caught out in the open. They needed time to get the hatchlings into the caves. His mate leaped up into the air and flew straight into the group of hostile dragons, spitting out fire and fighting with all her strength. She was nameless, as were most dragons who were never exposed to land-striders, but she fought with a fury greater than any being the land-striders have ever named.

Tolerant led the eight hatchlings to the safety of a small cave. However, to get there, they had to either take a long detour or jump over a crevice in the ground a few wingspans across. A few _adult_ dragon wingspans. The little hatchlings were still too young to fly, but they would have enough strength and coordination for short glides.

Eight dragons jumped across, using their wings to span the gap. One remained, prancing along the edge, whining and whimpering. He knew he could not make it, but saw a place off to the side where a stone archway spanned the chasm and he ran toward it.

Tolerant hesitated for an instant, considering going back for the hatchling. No, that would be foolish. The raiding dragons were getting closer. He would not risk his healthy hatchlings for the runt's sake, so he quickly led them into the cave. The narrow tunnels that led to an exit on the other side of the mountain and would grant protection from the vast number of the hostile dragons, forcing them to go in one at a time. Some of the larger dragons wouldn't even fit and might get stuck if they entered.

Once all the hatchlings were safely in the cave, Tolerant spun around and looked out.

A black form fell from the sky, limp, tumbling in the wind. The sickening crunch of breaking bones could be heard a moment after he saw a puff of snow shoot up from the impact. A much smaller black figure was carried away, held in the talons of a dragon. He cried out weakly as he was flown away with the raiding dragons.

Tolerant counted himself very fortunate. The damage done from this raid was nothing compared to previous ones. Why, though, he had no clue.

A thought suddenly dawned on him and his heart beat faster with excitement. This was the first black dragon the queen ever managed to take alive. Perhaps, now that she had a living specimen under her control, she would be content and leave this clutch alone? Tolerant desperately hoped so because, if that wasn't true, he knew that he and his clutch would not last long. Regardless, no matter what the future held, he wasn't so sure he wanted to see it.

Still, present needs could not be ignored. Tolerant set about inspecting his hatchlings. One of them hurt his leg in the mad dash and another overstrained her wing. They will be in pain for a few days, but they would be fine.

The flow of imagery from Firebrand ceased. Toothless realized he was growling and glaring at his clutchmate. The weight of these implications started to settle on him like a heavy weight as things fell into place.

When his surviving female clutchmates flew off after the demonic queen was killed, they knew they were taking a risk. For all they knew, there could have been other queens or creatures that could snare their minds. They had no clue what was out there, but nature drove them to take the risk.

However, Toothless always assumed Tolerant stayed behind because there was less risk. Tolerant would live out his days in isolation because he found that preferable to the risk of falling into another mind snare.

Then, out of nowhere, the one hatchling he abandoned suddenly appeared with a land-strider on his back and declared they worked together to destroy the queen. The conclusion was obvious. Firefly protected his dragon from the queen's mind snare. Tolerant and those other black dragons literally wiped out their only protection against the demonic queen. If they only knew better, there was a possibility they could have formed an alliance with those land-striders. If a single black dragon and his rider could take out the queen, how much sooner could those many black dragons have done the same had they seen past their blind assumptions? They had only themselves to blame for the desperate struggle and pointless deaths they experienced.

Guilt, not fear, was what _really_ kept Tolerant pinned to those islands after the demonic queen was killed. To leave would be to risk learning the cruel fate of the one he abandoned. The guilt of watching him return triumphant hurt even more. Toothless could see it in his sire's eyes and feel it in his hum. Tolerant seemed almost broken, as if the sight of his lost hatchling was a painful burden.

When Tolerant fought the lightning dragon that Firefly shot out of the sky, he should _not_ have died. He was _better_ than that! He was not outsmarted or overwhelmed. He just... gave up. He didn't see a land-strider in peril who needed saving. No, he saw an opportunity to redeem himself and escape the pain of guilt at the very same time.

Tolerant's actual killer was not the lightning dragon or Firefly. It was the guilt festering within for leaving Toothless behind during that dragon raid. Though noble in appearance, any attempt to save him would have been such a foolish decision that would have cost more than just his weakest hatchling. Tolerant didn't want to share any of that because of his guilt, but what was stopping Firebrand? Why didn't _he_ say anything? Why did he allow that guilt to fester?

Firefly looked at his dragon with a slack expression. A tear rolled down his cheek and clung to the bottom of his chin. Remorse poured off him in waves as he came to the same realization. While it should feel redeeming to know that Tolerant's death wasn't really his fault, it killed him all the more to know he could have helped. If only he had _known_!

Tolerant's death was really Firebrand's fault. He hid this from Toothless and his rider. Firefly had felt so much grief for Tolerant's death and it was all Firebrand's fault!

Toothless roared at his clutchmate. His pulse pounded at his abdomen, his leg twitched, his mind refused to cooperate to organize his thoughts into anything coherent. He wanted to lash out. He wanted blood.

Firefly projected an encouragement for the callous dragon to leave quickly. Firebrand huffed as he spun around and leaped off the edge of the cliff, spreading his wings to carry himself far away. Toothless lunged after him. That coward did not deserve to live!

Toothless' claws came just short of the other dragon's tail. It was only at this point, as he looked up at the departing dragon, that he realized he had jumped off the edge and couldn't fly. He had his saddle and artificial tailfin and knew that, with some flicks of his tail, he could control his descent enough to land in the ocean without injury. Not too far away, the sheer cliff face gave way to a rocky beach. He could swim to land where he could breathe fire on the ground and warm up before freezing to death in the cold water.

As the cliff face fell away and the water came closer, though, he noticed his rider right beside him and snorted in annoyance.

 _That sly critter knew I would do this! He anticipated my actions!_

Firefly maneuvered his way into the saddle and they were able to level off over the ocean. Toothless pumped his wings hard to give chase, but felt a mild sting on one of the sensor lobes that crowned his head and the tailfin his rider controlled flicked closed. It extended again just in time to level off before crashing into the ocean. Another surge of his wings turned him around to fly after Firebrand again, but he received the same treatment. After a couple more iterations, he groaned in defeat and turned back to land.

Toothless felt so weak and helpless. His rage and the denial of vengeance was leeching the strength out of his body. To have found those he had lost so long ago, only to lose them again... it felt like a great yawning void had swallowed up all of existence. The loneliness that had been a comfort in times past had become suffocating. He felt so broken.

A comforting weight pressed down around his head as his rider, his precious Firefly, leaned forward and wrapped his arms around. Strength poured in from the embrace as he flew back to land. No matter what, they would be together. Toothless had no strong feelings for his sire, but Firefly did. They would grieve together, endure together, and become stronger together.

They touched down just outside their wooden nest. Toothless kneaded the ground with his claws and hissed through clenched teeth. He wanted to thoroughly destroy something, but he also just wanted to curl up and let the world go by.

Stalwart approached. Firefly dismounted and looked very guilty. He wasn't supposed to fly, yet. Stalwart had ordered him to remain grounded to prove he had some discipline. However, Stalwart wasn't upset. As Firefly whimpered with leaking eyes and explained everything through sobbing breaths, he only listened with focused intensity.

He embraced Firefly and Toothless. He led them inside and fetched some soothing herbs. Eventually, Firefly lay down near the fire and Toothless curled up around him. Stalwart assured them for the fiftieth time he wasn't upset they flew and completely understood. He comforted them and stood watch as Toothless purred his rider and himself to sleep.

Before drifting off, Toothless gently curled his tail around one of Stalwart's legs. Perhaps he wasn't really all that bad after all. It was just one more demonstration of one thing land-striders were always good at.

They would always pull something from nothing and challenge every expectation.

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Thanks for reading! Also, Thanks to JR 0 for beta-reading.

This chapter took forever to revise. Why? I rewrote almost the whole gods-damned thing! I think I like the changes, though. Initially, I had this stupid scene with Toothless moping that he couldn't better protect his rider. It was really corny and dumb, so I'm hoping this new version is a bit more engaging and meaningful. Besides, had to add some adorable fluff and Tofa is a fluff factory.


	7. A New Life

**A New Life**

"Well, almost there. You can smell the excitement, already!"

Grub looked over at his friend. It was idle small-talk, really, as both points were obvious.

They were almost to the shoreline of Red Cedar island, known for its very valuable, straight-grained trees that were its namesake. Grub had heard that it was under the joint ownership of the Hairy Hooligan and Meathead tribes, who harvested the wood to sell. The Hooligans had always provided _the best_ classes in fighting dragons in their aptly-named "Kill Ring", but now changed to host their first class in _befriending_ them.

Only two Vikings from each tribe were allowed to attend this dragon training. The only requirements for these students were: young, preferably in his teens, can easily get along with others, meek to receive instruction, and willing to push himself to interact with dragons in a non-violent way. That was what the message said about this training. The document also specified that the only entry fee was to bring "A full roll of tanned leather and sinew for each student, a sack of vegetables, and a yak, two sheep, or a similar amount of meat in livestock. Not dead stock. Not cured meats. Not fish. Living, breathing, healthy animals. Just wanted to make that very clear."

Two sheep and two goats lined the center of their dinghy, laid out on their sides with ropes tying their legs together so they wouldn't spook and jump into the water. Wedged in the center of them was a large sack full of kale, collards, radish, parsnips, beets, onion, and carrots – hearty produce that would endure the cold and rough handling on the ride over. The Hysteric tribe, close neighbor to the Greenbellies, were more industrious and actually had a ship capable of making the journey all the way up here. Providing their "entrance fee" secured a ride on their ship, which was currently sailing back home after depositing the dinghy.

Grub's eyes caught something breaking through the white, fluffy clouds above, off to his right. "How 'bout that black one? If it doesn't smack into the water, I can see you on its back."

His friend and fellow tribe-mate, Hauk, followed his gaze upward at said dragon plummeting through the clouds above. To the surprise of both Vikings, a human came into sight and lazily twirled around the beast. Shortly before slamming into the ocean, the rider worked his way onto the dragon's back and they leveled off, gliding in toward the island. In their wake drifted the sound of the dragon's roar and the rider shouting, "YEEEEEEEAH BABY!"

Hauk made a face. "Not sure I'd want to ride a dragon that would do _that_ to me."

"Ya know, " Hauk idly said, "I think _you_ could handle a dragon like that."

"Doubt I'll handle _any_ dragon, to be honest."

"Aww, c'mon, just 'cause- oof!"

Grub pulled his oar out of the water and thumped the handle into his friend's shoulder – soft enough that it wouldn't bruise, but hard enough to make his point. Hauk only gave a friendly slap on the back and continued rowing. He was the ideal candidate for this sort of class, but Grub knew he would fail to become a rider. Everyone knew it, but that didn't mean he'd want to hear about it. Again.

Well, not _everyone_ knew it. The two Hysteric tribesmen at the front of the dinghy didn't know. In fact, they had no clue that Grub was the heir to the Greenbelly tribe. The old-fashioned lifestyle of the Greenbellies as herdsmen contrasted sharply with the self-centered pursuit of comfort and pleasure of the Hysteric tribe, but they got along well enough.

Well, they _had_ gotten along until the Greenbelly tribe was nearly entirely wiped out by a particularly brutal dragon raid. Only those who found shelter in the forest and caves to hide from the beasts survived. The Hysterics never engaged in any hostilities, but there was no aid or sympathy, either.

One of the Hysterics looked back and rolled his eyes with great exaggeration. " _Will_ you two _keep_ it _down_? You're driving me _crazy_ with all your _chattering_!"

The Hysterics never offered their names and Grub never asked. He figured the less he knew about these drama queens, the better. Sure, they looked like proper Vikings of the Barbaric Archipelago with axes, guts, a thirst for glory, and all that stuff, but the younger ones especially live up to the tribe's namesake. The two on the dinghy with Grub and Hauk were in their mid and late teens, with strong, puffy builds, varying degrees of scruff sprouting out of their faces, and especially shrill whines about every possible inconvenience and discomfort.

Grub returned his attention to his oar, sparing an occasional flick of the eyes to his friend. Hauk also looked like a proper Viking. Well, it would be more accurate to say he looked like a large grizzly bear in Viking attire thanks to his combined Berk and Berserker ancestry. Even at only nineteen years old, he was almost as large as the aptly named Hooligan chieftain, Stoick the Vast.

Between his friend's good-natured jests and the Hysterics' ill-tempered jabs about adjusting their rowing to compensate, it was obvious Grub's own corded and wiry physique was nowhere near as strong. He wasn't weak, but he wasn't a "knuckle-dragger" as he jokingly called his friend. However, his endurance and speed on foot made him quite suitable to protect and care for his roaming flock of sheep, goats, and yaks that was now in the hands of the few tribesmen he could trust for such a weighty responsibility.

As the dinghy scraped up onto the pebbly beach, a blond-haired girl in her teens broke through the treeline, maybe twenty paces away, broadly waving a hand at them. When Grub saw a blue Deadly Nadder pop out, trailing behind her, he leaped out of the boat and landed with a splash in the icy, ankle-deep water. His sword was already out with his left hand grasping the oar mid-shaft as he stood there, eyes locked on the dragon, not daring to move forward or backward.

He felt naked and vulnerable, out in the open and without his bow. As with most Greenbellies, it was his go-to weapon. While arrows could hardly take down a dragon, they _were_ a very good option for dissuading the beasts from staying too long during a raid. Back at home, Grub had one of those fancy Yew longbows his tribe started buying a few years ago and some arrows with hardened steel heads. A couple of those arrows could _definitely_ take down almost any dragon.

He wasn't allowed to bring such weapons here, though. The rules for this dragon training forbade people from bringing shields, bolas, bows, or other specialized weapons of war, but required everyone to bring some sort of everyday carry weapon for self-defense. His prized ULFBERHT sword was a comforting weight of some sort of super steel the mainland smiths had conjured forth, but the lack of a bowstring clinging to his chest was unsettling. He had packed some lengths of twisted cord, sinew, and fletching, though, so he could hack out a bow and arrow of his own for target practice in the woods if things got too boring.

Before that, though, he would have to survive this encounter with a dragon and these dragon-loving Hooligans. Grub knew he chose to come. He knew he came here to learn more about dragons. He knew he wanted to try to believe that his understanding of their nature was incomplete. However, instincts and prejudice guided him in a way that surpassed all conscious thought.

Rusty, his golden-red haired sheepdog that had been enduring the rocking of the boat in silence, stood at his side, teeth bared and barking. His dense winter coat, which had already started to grow out, was a mess of islands of long, dry, fluffy fur between patches slicked down from the salty water. He was well-trained and did not budge, but stood there, tensed and ready, head held level right next to his master's hip. The dog hasn't seen any dragon raids, but he recognized danger when he saw it.

"Whoa whoa whoa!"

The blond-haired girl took a step forward and held up a hand to both Viking and dragon as she glared at Grub, who spared her a quick flick of his eyes. She was a pretty little thing. Slender, but firm, big, blue eyes, small nose, a cute set of shoulder pauldrons that served absolutely no practical purpose whatsoever, and a skirt of studded leather that must have been the most annoying thing to sit on.

"We'll have none of that, you," she shouted over to him. "If you came here to learn how to befriend dragons, then welcome to class. But if you came to fight them, then scram! We can truss you up and fly you back home if you'd like."

The dragon hadn't moved. It just stood a few paces behind the girl, staring at Grub. Its attention occasionally flicked toward the others in the dinghy, but was mainly focused on him.

"Sorry, lass," Grub shouted back to her. "I'm trying. Really. Rusty, down."

The dog fell mostly silent as Grub sheathed his sword – or, at least, tried. He missed the scabbard because he refused to take his eyes off the dragon for even an instant, so he used his left hand to feel the scabbard and guide the sword in. The tip found the side of his thumb and he cursed under his breath at the pain. Finally, with a finger guiding the flat of the blade, he got it in.

As it bottomed out in his scabbard with a soft thump, he asked, "What's your name?"

A corner of her lip tugged upward almost imperceptibly as her hand relaxed from the head of her ax that was fastened to her belt. "Astrid... Hofferson. This, here, is Stormfly."

The dragon gave a chirp and nudged the girl's shoulder, causing her to chuckle and Grub to slap his hand to the pommel of his sword. He felt a wet trickle on his thumb and brought it up to his lips. The tip of the sword hardly scratched it, but it was enough to draw a bead of blood.

"You don't need to fear the dragons here." she continued. "They _want_ to help you become a rider and show you that they no longer behave as we had come to expect over the past few centuries."

Without taking his eyes off the dragon, Grub took a wide, carved stick from his pocket, lightly tapped it on his dog's snout, and held it out. Hauk grabbed it and started to idly pet Rusty's head as the dog shifted over to stand by his side. It was a signal that was trained into Rusty from a pup that allowed him to recognize a new master.

As Grub took cautious steps forward, eyes still locked on the dragon, he said, "I don't fear that which I have killed before, Astrid Hofferson, but I have learned to never ignore-"

His toe found a rock that smarted through his leather boot, but he barely stumbled and caught himself again, stopping about ten paces in front of her and that dragon. His black bearskin cape sloshed around to the side and he flicked it away in annoyance.

"That which can kill me," he finished with a twisting of his face at the embarrassing stumble. He just could not bring himself to take his eyes away from those of the dragon.

Astrid flicked a sideways glance to the beast. "Crawl before you fly, I guess."

She closed the gap between them in a few steps and Grub spared a quick glance to shake her hand before continuing to stare at the dragon. It stood as still as a rock with the angle of its head bisecting Grub and the other three Vikings who, judging by the sounds they were making, were securing the dinghy and livestock on the beach.

"And your name?"

"Grub. Grub Woolbottom."

Behind him, someone shouted, "Grub?!" Grub spared him a glance before locking his eyes on the dragon, again.

" _The_ Grub? The Grubbing grubber? The grubbiest grubber who ever did grub? Oh, man, he's _gonna_ piss off _all_ the _dragons!_ We are _all_ soooo dead! Lady, if I _knew_ he was- Ugnh!"

Grub heard the familiar timbre of a wooden oar striking leather. He didn't dare peel his eyes off the dragon, but silently thanked his friend for helping him deal with that spineless whiner, who had been so shrill the entire boat ride over. Until now, Grub had kept up the appearance that he was some unknown farmhand. With how little interest the Hysterics had in their "silly, simple, herdsmen neighbors", maintaining such anonymity on the ship was not hard at all. Now that he was on the island, though, he could afford to drop any pretense.

"Don't mind him," Grub said casually. "He _is_ a Hysteric, after all. Just don't make eye contact or he'll ooze all over you."

Astrid took a step back and scrunched her face into a squint. "Are... you..."

 _Crazed? Insane?_ Grub could almost hear all the questions she was restraining herself from asking him.

"I'm fine."

He started to slowly pace around the dragon, casually thumping the handle of his oar against the ground as a walking stick. He never crossed his legs, but shuffled, always keeping several paces between him and the beast. Astrid simply stood there with a mixture of confusion and amusement on her face while the dragon turned its head to follow his motion.

It looked so similar to the one that was burned into his memory from that fateful night when his entire village was burned to the ground and most of his tribe was slaughtered. It was a nightmare that haunted his dreams at least once a week.

Two years ago, fire and death surrounded him as axes and talons flew through the air. His father had taken him to the edge of the village and ordered him to disappear among the trees. His objective was clear: run, hide, survive.

Grub didn't want to leave, of course. He couldn't! This was his _father_! This was his _home_!

This raid was so much worse than any other in the past. Everything was burning. Everyone was dying. Normally, raiding dragons just stole food and attacked only those who got in their way, but in this raid, they swarmed in endless droves of fire and death. Grub would never abandon his people. Never! Then again, he would not disobey his father and chief.

He sprinted away for several paces, but turned around at a familiar sound. In the dark of night, the moonlight was barely enough to see the outline of an ax embedded in the base of a Nadder's left leg. The dragon squealed in pain, but that alone would not be fatal.

The blade of a dagger glinted in the moonlight as his father prepared to finish the job, but he froze where he stood, gasping in pain. Grub couldn't see what happened, but it was obvious when he saw another Nadder off to the side, tail swishing around. It must have hit him in the back with a quill.

That wouldn't have been enough to bring a man down. At least, not immediately, but it caused just enough of a pause in his motion for the injured Nadder. The devil wrapped its teeth around his neck and in one, cruel jerk, tore his head from his shoulders.

Grub didn't wait to watch the body fall. He knew he was supposed to run, but couldn't bring himself to do it. An arrow was already nocked and drawn in his longbow and he let it loose at the second Nadder.

The bow was supple. The arrow was straight-grained and stiff. The hardened steel head came to a point of sharpened malice.

His mentors always told him, "Aim small, miss small." He would have been embarrassed if he couldn't hit a plate on a dark night from forty paces away.

His target had the misfortune of shrieking in anger when the arrow struck, sliding through its open mouth. He could tell the beast would die when the profile of its head, backlit by the orange glow of fires from the village beyond, had the pointed shaft of the arrow sticking out.

It fell sideways to the ground, writhing in pain, but Grub was already sprinting away. The other Nadder gave chase, but the forest was dense. Losing it did not prove to be difficult. Leaving his father and his tribe behind, though, tore his heart to ribbons. If it wouldn't have been an insult to his father for his sacrifice, the thoughts of suicide in the days following would have been overwhelming.

When he dared to return a couple days later, all the dragons had fled. Hundreds of scaly corpses were strewn about, but the village was smoking ash. Many of the dead were never found, no doubt carried off to the nest. The bodies that _were_ left behind were excessively torn to little bits, as if the dragons were not content to just kill and destroy, but had to pour salt in the wound, too. Grub could never find his father's body, but the head was on the ground where he died, mashed up and full of tooth marks.

The Nadder standing in front of him, here on Red Cedar island, definitely was not the one he killed with his arrow, unless dragons are immortal. They aren't, though. They bleed and die like anything else and Grub knew this very well.

It wasn't the one that killed his father, either, as indicated by the lack of any noticeable scar on its left leg from the ax. Now that he was a mere seven paces away, he could see more minute details of the dragon. Its blue and white scales gleamed in the sun and were ornamented with bits of tan and muted yellow. A few tiny scars peeked out between the scales along its maw and side.

It must be a female, given the set of its hips and the length of the spikes crowning its head. Not everyone pays attention to these little details, but Grub studied them whenever he field dressed and processed the dragons his tribe killed in years past. The females seemed to be more aggressive than the male and more easily set into a rage. They would struggle to the last breath.

As Grub passed behind the dragon, it flicked its head around to the other side to continue tracking his movements. At the same moment, he took a quick hop back, causing the dragon to give an alarmed squawk and turn its body around to face him again.

Grub took an experimental step toward the dragon. It didn't budge.

He jumped back and the dragon took a small hop forward.

As he took another slow step back, the dragon stepped forward again, but he surprised it by suddenly lunging forward a step, causing the dragon to rear back and fan its wings with an alarmed squawk. The spines lining its tail were still laid down flat, but the dragon had its side turned to him in a defensive posture. Its powerful legs could quickly leap sideways to either retreat or lunge into an attack.

Grub reached a hand back and felt the bark of a large oak tree that he had eyed as he circled the dragon. If things got ugly, the forest was dense and he could use the trees for cover from the quills and talons.

The dragon gave a huff and continued the staring contest that neither of them would ever lose. Astrid narrowed her eyes at him as she pressed her cheek against the beast's maw.

"You look like you've never seen a dragon before."

"I've seen them plenty, lass. I've seen their talons. I've seen their fangs and fire. I've seen their nature, how they can be managed by our responses to the raids and... and..." A scowl fell over his face. "I've seen how our greed for glory can turn that nature against us."

"Well," Astrid said, "they've changed. The dragons' nature has changed."

"Ditto."

The girl frowned at the curt response.

"You've noticed they stopped raiding your village two years ago?"

"Haven't _had_ a village for the past two years."

Her eyebrows raised and her face slackened.

"Why are you here?"

"To try to change."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-five."

A chirp from the edge of the forest drew the eyes of both parties to the little, sky-blue form of a Terrible Terror. It dove at Astrid and flared its wings, landing in a curl in her arms that she crossed in front of her.

"Dart, you are _so_ pathetic," she chided with a lilt in her voice as she stroked its belly.

Grub balanced his attention between the two dragons. Though small, Terrible Terrors were no less deadly than Nadders. Their nimble speed made them annoyingly difficult to track in battle and their claws and teeth were very, very sharp.

As the dragon wriggled around under Astrid's touch, she said, "Go tell Hiccup we got four. Oh, and also tell him that if he breaks his healing ribs doing his little stunts in the air, _I_ will break his _arm_!"

With a swish of her arm, the dragon was sent aloft, flitting back into the forest. Astrid took a studious look at Grub.

"Twenty-five, hmm? You _know_ we asked for younger Vikings for this, right? They're more likely to accept a dragon as a friend than older people, who have had more time to see destruction and loss from them."

Grub scowled. "You would be hard-pressed to find someone more open-minded than me. We don't exactly have a lot of living candidates."

"You're not making this easy."

Grub spat. "Easy is weakness. Easy is worthless."

For the first time in their encounter, Astrid smiled. "On that, I wholeheartedly agree. By the way, can you work a froe and a draw knife?"

"Am I a Viking?"

Grub could sense that she was looking to wrap up this conversation. Hauk and the Hysterics were nervously eying them from the other side of the dragon, keeping a cautious distance.

Astrid gave a curt nod. "Good. We could use the help. The longhouse suffered some damage and neglect. We're carving some shakes for the roof and my back is _killing_ me. We have only a thousand more to go unless you want to sleep in the rain and hail."

"Well, then, lead on, lass."

"Call me lass again and Stormfly will slap you with her tail."

"Did you know that if you strike the base of a Nadder's tail from below in _just_ the right spot, you can-"

"Just shut up and follow at whatever distance you can manage, scaredy-pants."

Grub shouted, "Rusty! Heel!"

Hearing his master's call, the dog grabbed the wooden totem out of Hauk's hand, causing him to jump at the sudden and unexpected snapping, and ran over, giving the dragon a wide berth and sparing a brief growl through clenched teeth.

Hauk and the Hysterics had already secured the dinghy on the beach. The sheep and goats were standing on their own hooves and ropes allowed the Vikings to keep them close. Grub made a mental note to untie the ropes, smack the Vikings for resorting to such measures to manage the animals, and herd them along with the help of his dog. One's food and source of clothing should be respected, not humiliated unnecessarily.

"C'mon, guys," Astrid called out to them. "Meet the crew. Oh, and welcome to Viking training!"

One of the Hysterics said, "Ohhhhh maaaaannnn, _did_ you _see_ her. She was totally _staring_ at _me_!"

Grub grinned over at Astrid. "You made eye contact, didn't you?"

Astrid scowled through a reddened face as she took up a pace between the dragon and the Vikings. "No! I didn't mean to!"

########

* * *

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Icy wind whipped past Camicazi, leeching the life out of her body. Her face was freezing. Her ears were freezing. Her hands and feet were freezing. She never imagined that it would be this miserable.

 _How does Hiccup_ do _this?_

Initially, it had seemed so simple. After all, Hiccup did it and he's a boy. Sure Camicazi knew she was no older, but Hiccup was just a _male_ for Thor's sake! The young Bog Burglar heiress had set out with two heavy coats, her thickest mittens, warm pants, wool-lined boots, a big scarf, and a wool hat under a fur-lined hood. Yet, the wind still sapped all the heat and energy from her body.

At least the fear of falling had abated ever-so-slightly in the past two days. The ropes securing her waist to the dragon's neck on which she sat had caught her the few times she got careless and slid off to the side. She would have fallen to her death or have had to rely on those sharp claws to catch her without those ropes.

"T-t-t-t-tease-"

A blast of icy wind tore the breath out of her lungs before she could even say the entirety of her dragon's name.

It was only two weeks ago that the dragon had become hers – or she had become the dragon's. Even now, she was still trying to sort out how it all happened. She was on a Lava Lout cargo ship, looking for valuables to steal, doing the regular things her all-female Bog Burglar tribe does, when she came across an amazing stone. It sparkled and almost seemed to glow with an unearthly light, like some sort of magical crystal straight out of a fairy tale.

She had just barely secured the stone in her satchel when the entire ship rocked and frantic shouting rose up above deck. It was all just a blur of activity. One moment, she was scampering back up to the deck of the ship to see several Changewing dragons. Sailors were either diving off the boat or being thrown into the ocean. The next moment, a dragon was practically skipping her across the waves and ended up on the beach of a nearby island.

A thought briefly flit through her mind that the glowing stone was actually a dragon egg. When she produced it from her satchel, it was clear from their gestures they were angry it was taken and happy it was intact all at the same time.

It was at this point that her recent conversations with Hiccup came to mind, thank the gods. She was recently his guinea pig in teaching people to peacefully interact with the dragons. Apparently, while dragons don't understand Norse, they can somehow understand what people say through some sort of telepathy or magic or something like that. After begging the Changewings to not kill her and asking what they wanted, the dragons eventually communicated their demands by way of growling, trilling, hissing, and spitting acid in front of her feet and over her head.

Pushing through the shaking chills, Camicazi quickly set about to make a fire. The Changewings did nothing to help except hiss whenever her numb fingers dropped something, but at least her flint and char cloth survived the trip in her belt pouch. She had seen these dragons spit out acid when they attacked the ship, but they must be the only dragons that don't breathe fire.

She finally got the fire going with the egg snuggled into an embankment of sand against the burning logs. The egg's mysterious glow, which had faded during the chilly exodus from the ship, slowly returned. Se kept the fire fed while the Changewings fussed over positioning the egg around the bed of coals.

They didn't kill her. Some of them flew off. A few stayed. One knocked her down and licked her face and she decided to try to befriend it. She had taken the soggy cured meat from her satchel and offered it to the dragon that licked her. Dragons had no difficulty feeding themselves, but Hiccup had said they ascribe great weight to others providing for them as a show of loyalty. Somehow, that worked.

Though on friendly terms, the name she gave her dragon, Teaser, was hard-earned. That thing had a particular fondness for leaving her stranded on the top of a tall sea stack for half a day or hiding, blending in with the environment – their unique trait – and then scaring the daylights out of her.

By applying what she learned from Hiccup about talking to dragons, thinking deeply about the imagery, sensations, emotions, and feelings about every word she said, she was able to tell Teaser about the dragon training she had heard about. The dragon voiced its agreement with going by licking her face, slapping her with its tail, hiding, and then scaring her to death.

Camicazi was getting the dragon to cooperate in letting her fly on its back, but now the joke was on her. They were getting close, but this chill was more than skin deep.

"T-t-t-t-t-tease?"

No response. She pressed herself down against the dragon's neck as flat as she could. Hiccup said dragons throw out a lot of heat when they fly. Either he lied or Changewings were different.

"P-p-p-please... land-d-d."

Camicazi already had her fingers clenched tight in her gloves in a futile attempt to keep them from falling off her hands. She beat on the dragon's neck with all her might, but felt so weak with the cold and fear sapping all life and energy out of her body. Resigned to an incognito existence, she curled up as flat as possible and tried to tense her muscles, curling her legs and pressing the fist of one hand into the other to encourage some more blood to flow around.

She didn't even notice that they were landing until she was thrown off to dangle just above the ground by the rope. It dug into her waist and smarted when her weight came down on it. At least Teaser had the decency to twist its head to the side and use a large horn to help Camicazi stand up. Even that was a challenge as so much time spent straddling the dragon's neck had left her back and legs feeling sore, stiff, and cramped. Taking the already frozen hands out of the mittens to untied the rope was absolutely out of the question, so she fumbled around for the handle of the knife on her belt.

As soon as the blade was exposed, the dragon jerked to the side, dragging Camicazi along with a pained gasp. The knife fell to the ground and, after recovering her footing, she glared at the dragon that was peering back at her.

"Hey-y-ya! I c-c-c-can't-t-t-t unt-t-tie th-th-the rop-p-pe. T-t-t-ease!"

Camicazi buried her face into the base of the dragon's neck and repeatedly thumped her head against it. Tears started to trickle down. She was at wit's end. There was no heat, no energy, no patience left. Her limbs were going to fall off and she was going to die and it was all because of her stupid dragon.

She simply snapped.

"Whyyyyyyy!" Camicazi wailed in exhausted hysteria. "Whyyyy! T-t-t-ell m-m-eee wh-whyyyy!"

After a while, her breathing became more ragged as even _that_ was too tiring. All attempts to beat on the dragon's neck ended in simply leaning heavily against it, panting through wracking shivers. As proud as she was for being the very first Bog-Burglar dragon rider, this experience had a lot of frustration and fear tied to it.

After a while, she dawned on the realization that it wasn't _that_ cold out. Well, at least not "you spit and ice clinks against the ground" cold. The crisp, dawn air was chilly, but hardly freezing. Without the deathly wind whipping past, feeling started to return to her fingers. She pulled at her glove with her teeth to expose the fingers and finally managed to untie the ropes.

An instant later, her back was pinned to the ground with a tongue mercilessly depositing saliva on her face. She brought up her arms in a frantic defense, but they were knocked to the side. There was no strength left to fight back, so she simply went completely slack.

As she hoped, the slobbery assault ceased. The dragon wasn't content to just lick her.

 _I'm on to you, you scaly bastard. You just wanna watch me squirm!_

Camicazi could feel the pressure from the dragon's torso on top of her, but was still able to breathe well enough. She used the back of a glove to wipe off some saliva before worming her arms down under the warm dragon. Well, maybe not warm, but at least not as cold as its heart.

Blinking through the saliva that was starting to crust around her eyes, the dragon's head came into focus, looking down with amusement.

"Actually, this isn't quite so bad, but I'll go without the drooling next time, you sadistic little bitch."

Camicazi suddenly clenched her eyes shut and cringed. Her mother would slap her hard enough to leave a welt if she heard that sort of language. However, social niceties ranked among the _least_ of Camicazi's concerns at the moment. One should not insult a dragon when helplessly pinned underneath it.

A moment of trepidation passed. Camicazi kept her eyes closed and waited for an enraged dragon to burn her with acid or bite off her head.

And waited.

And waited.

She was about to open them again when the familiar wetness of the dragon's tongue fell on her face, once again. The crafty beast even shifted its weight forward so she couldn't pull her arms up in self-defense. All she could do was turn her head this way and that, trying to minimize the amount that went up her nose.

After the dragon finally relented, Camicazi was permitted to pull an arm up to wipe off the saliva. With some effort, she was able to lift her shoulders off the ground a little bit to peer over the dragon's forelegs that encircled her.

"Seriously, Tease. You're transitioning from 'Hey, that's cute, if not annoying,' to, 'By the gods, I will literally stab you in the face and I don't even care if I die!'"

Judging by how the rock she was pinned to dropped off in all directions to give way to the ocean below, this "land" must have been a narrow sea stack. A distant speck in the water marked the Meathead tribe's island. Red Cedar island wouldn't be much farther past that. They were almost there.

Looking up at the smug dragon, she asked, "Are you comfortable, your annoying royal highness? Will you grant your personal torture doll a moment of reprieve?"

Teaser simply chirped in contentment and laid its head down on its foreleg. With a bit of squirming, Camicazi was able to pull her coat open and bunch it beneath her back to insulate herself from the cold rock while allowing the heat from the dragon to be absorbed into her body.

"Well, Teaser, I'm hoping we _both_ learn something from this dragon training thing. I think _something's_ gotta change or _one_ of us is going to kill the other. We definitely need help to make this thing work between us."

Teaser gave Camicazi a more fond and less excessively slobbery lick on the cheek for good measure and settled its head down on its foreleg again. Camicazi could feel the dragon shift a little to the side, allowing the full weight of its body to settle to the ground. The pressure increased, but laying under the crook of the dragon's foreleg, she was still able to breathe well enough and wriggled down a little more so only her head was exposed.

Now that there wasn't an icy wind of death ripping out her very soul, the scarf and fur-lined hood were starting to make her feel warm again. Her feet found their way into the void underneath where the dragon's haunches attach to the body. She was quite short, standing about a head below most Vikings her age, but Changewings weren't large dragons, either. Still, it was a good fit to keep her warm and that was very fortunate.

"Almost there, girl, but you're right. Taking a nap sounds like a wonderful idea."

Before drifting off to sleep, Camicazi went through the Vikings she expected would probably be at the training. There were several she was hoping would attend that she wanted to woo, rob, and punch in the gut – in that exact order.

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Thanks for reading! Thanks to JR 0 for Beta-reading!

Also, thanks for dropping a line, Nitroexpress. I love leaving subtle little details here and there without explicitly calling them out. Not everyone may get them, but when someone notices and even takes the time to comment on it, I squeal like a pig. I had a lot of fun drawing some deeper parallels between Hiccup and Toothless beside, "Look, he's your age." Both of them rejected, both lost their mother. Hiccup thought he killed Toothless' father and, well, ya know. ;)


	8. Welcome to Class

**Welcome to Class**

Grub allowed a grin to settle on his face as he split wooden shakes for the roof. He always found such tasks to be relaxing and meditative. It was so relaxing, in fact, that he almost didn't feel wound-up with so many dragons around.

 _Almost_ being the operative word.

It seemed that this dragon training began with some repairs to their living quarters. For the next two weeks, all the students would be sleeping in the two longhouses that the Hooligans and Meatheads had used for their logging operations and inter-tribal gatherings. While structurally sound, they had suffered from some neglect and damage in the past few years and the roof needed minor repairs.

There were about twenty people milling about. Most of them were working on the longhouse, sawing and nailing to patch up the roof where it was starting to rot away. Grub could recognize only a handful. The Bog Burglar tribe, which occupied an island even farther south than the Greenbellies and Hysterics, was represented by two girls in their early and mid-teens. They were sisters who had introduce themselves as Gretta and Gerd. They claimed that the Night Fury, named Toothless, visited their island with Berk's heir and they had a chance to pet and ride it.

Surprisingly, the Bogs didn't send their heiress, Camicazi. In fact, very few of the tribes were represented by an heir. Grub supposed he could understand their reasoning. For all they knew, this whole dragon training event could just be a trick to draw out valuable tribe members and kill them all. Better to send someone more expendable, just in case. The Hooligans were a strange lot, no doubt, but Grub didn't think they would really be so malicious.

He would get to know them, eventually. What mattered for the moment was that there was work to be done. Grub hummed away as he split the wood. The cedar was very straight-grained and densely ringed. The froe, which he whacked with a wooden mallet to split off wide slabs, had a good, straight blade. With the split started, he twisted the froe as he worked it down.

SHHRK... SHHRK... SHHRK-CRACK!

Another wooden shake was coaxed from the waist-high round with a couple thrusts and twists of the froe. Grub kicked the shake out of the way and reached down to flip the log upside down, aligned the froe a hair under two finger-widths away from the flat edge of the log he was working, and gave it another solid whack with the mallet. The froe sank into the wood and started the split.

SHHRK... SHHRK-CRACK!

The sound of the fibers pulling apart, the feeling of the resistance suddenly giving away to break so cleanly, the smell of resin in the air... This was what life was all about! Grub always enjoyed working with his hands. That's one reason he decided these Hooligans weren't so bad. Astrid was no stranger to embracing discomfort with a smile. Fishlegs, almost as massive as Hauk and more timid than a squirrel, enjoyed the quiet serenity of carving, as displayed by his collection of little wooden totems and sculptures he likes to talk about.

As enjoyable as this sort of work was, It would be a lot _more_ enjoyable if a certain Deadly Nadder would stop staring.

After getting him set up on this task, Astrid had mounted the dragon and took off. She recently returned, accompanied by someone on a black dragon, probably the one that was diving through the clouds, terrorizing its rider, shortly before his boat reached shore. Ever since they landed, the Nadder had been pacing around at the threshold of a comfortable distance away, eying him continually. Grub found himself flicking his eyes at the beast after every step of his task, keeping track of where it was.

Such a divided attention already cost him a couple skinned knuckles from a missed blow of the mallet. The dragon would occasionally take a hop closer, which invariably made him grab the froe or mallet with one hand and rest his other hand on the pommel of his sword. It would then slowly step back until he relaxed, then continue pacing around.

At one point, Grub got fed up with this behavior and chucked one of the shakes at the dragon. It used its horns that crowned its head to deflect the projectile, which was not surprising at all. He had seen those beasts deflect actual weaponry, like thrown axes, spears, and even arrows. Crossbow quarrels were supposed to be much better at securing a hit, being lightweight and higher speed. However, such weaponry was always expensive, rare, hard to aim at moving targets more than a dozen paces away, and cumbersome to use on the field. Also, hunching down to rearm a crossbow was hardly appropriate when fire-breathing beasts with sharp claws and teeth were swooping around overhead.

"Hey!" Astrid spun around from her conversation with the other rider, stormed up to where the wooden shake had fallen to the ground, and chucked it at Grub, who batted it away with the outside of his arm. "Not so fun on the receiving end, is it?"

Grub aligned the froe on the round as he reached for his mallet. "The next time your dragon decides to test my patience," WHACK! "I'll sling a stone at its eye, instead."

SHHRK... SHHRK-CRACK!

Astrid casually flipped her double-headed ax from hand to hand. "I _dare_ you to try that. It's not like she's even touching you."

"It's not like I'm touching your pet, either. Tell it to leave me alone. _My_ pet knows how to behave properly around others." Grub idly ran his fingers through the golden-red hairs on Rusty's head and back. The dog gave a joyful bark and leaned into his hand as he scratched behind the ear.

"Stormfly is NOT! A! PET! You need to learn to show the dragons a little respect if you hope to _ever_ ride one."

Grub slowly shook his head as he aligned the froe and beat it into the wood. "I respect them, lass. I respect the death and destruction they can cause. Just tell your... dragon... to stop bothering me. I'm sure it has better things to do."

Astrid rolled her eyes. " _Her_ name is Stormfly and you can ask her, yourself. They can understand us, you know. She can understand what you and I are saying."

"She can understand me, eh?" Grub chuckled bitterly. "Alright, _Stormfly_ , how many Vikings have you killed?"

Astrid turned red and shouted, " _That_ is _hardly_ -"

"Four."

A casual, nasally voice drew both Grub's and Astrid's attention to the rider of the black dragon. He was wearing a black leather outfit and a matching leather helmet. One hand was resting on the Nadder's maw and the other on Astrid's shoulder.

Turning to her, he said in a quieter tone, "Mind if I handle this? Please?"

The girl relented, grabbing a hammer and a bucket full of finished wooden shakes to repair the roof, fuming all the way with some very inventive curses involving something about a half-troll, bread-eating, lunch bucket something or other.

 _Pity. The French traders almost never make it up this far to bestow proper profanity upon such a fiery soul._

The new rider pushed off of the Nadder's maw as he pulled off the helmet and ran some fingers through his shoulder-length auburn hair that had become unruly from the time spent in its confines. He walked over and sat down on a nearby shave horse with an ease of motion and confidence that just didn't seem to fit someone of such an unimposing stature. The confidence probably came from the fact that his pet dragon was trained to come to the aid at a snap of his fingers. As he settled himself down on the bench, he picked up a draw knife and a shake that was just split, secured it in the shave horse, and started to carve the edges straight and square.

"Well," he idly continued in a droning voice, occasionally flicking his green eyes over, "Four or five. Stormfly said it was less than the number of dragons on this island by about half. They don't count and do math quite the same way we do."

The boy seemed to be proficient with the task he set himself to, so Grub kicked a few more shakes toward his feet.

"And you would be..."

The rider turned with a smile and extended a hand. "Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, heir to Stoick the Vast, whom you've probably seen wandering around, overseeing the repairs."

Grub grasped the proffered hand. "The so-called dragon master."

Hiccup frowned. "I am _nobody's_ master. I'll take Dragon Whisperer, instead, because I am one of the few who can hear dragons speak, but please, just Hiccup is all I'll ever ask to be called. Some people like to call me Fish-bone, weakling, or runt, but..."

Hiccup winked.

" _Then_ I'll start calling you Snotlout or Thuggory. Speaking of which, what's _your_ name?"

Grub positioned the froe and gave it a solid whack with the mallet, smiling at the crisp, clean sound it made. "Grub Woolbottom, Greenbelly tribe. Shepherd of a flock of a hundred twenty sheep, goats, and yaks."

The Nadder had retreated a little farther away, shifting her attention between Grub and Astrid, who was on the roof of the longhouse, hammering nails into the shakes. Whenever Astrid worked a rotten shake loose and tossed it out of the way, the dragon jumped to catch it like a dog playing fetch.

Grub flicked a glance over at Hiccup. "Dragons talk to you, eh? Are you sure it's not your ego jabbering in your head?"

Hiccup grinned as he reached down to pick up his leather helmet and tossed it over. "See anything unusual about this?"

Grub dropped the hammer to catch the helmet and studied it for a moment. "The fur is on the inside, not the outside like on most clothing. Would get a bit damp and smelly, I bet. I'm guessing this neck guard goes under the coat, but, again, I bet the goat – no wolf, definitely wolf – hair on the inside would feel weird against your neck."

"What do you make of the eye protection?"

That was strange indeed. A stiff piece of boiled leather rotated up and down on a hinge. It was curved to the shape of the helmet and, when lowered, would protect the wearer's eyes, but would blind him by blocking out all light. It could be rotated up to allow for sight, but then why even have this eye protection in the first place?

Grub inspected the iron hinge and little latch that held the eye protection up or down. The look on Hiccup's face made him suspicious of something. He leaned over, reaching out a hand, and extended two fingers to grasp Hiccup's hand, rotating it around to see the sides of the fingers and the palm. It was an innocent enough gesture, gentle enough that it would not come across as any sign of aggression.

As suspected, there were thick calluses on the inside knuckles, a couple healing burns, and some lines worn into the skin on the outside of the pinky and index fingers. The widening grin on the rider's face removed any possible doubt.

"You made this yourself, lad? Nice job on the hinge and latch, there. The stitching is straight and even, too."

Hiccup chuckled.

"Oh, no, _I_ didn't do _that_. I spend all _my_ days smelting and forging large iron stock. I forge... war... hammers- yeah, I guess I'm not fooling you one little bit. Thanks, though, but it's not the workmanship I was trying to show off.

"I guess the eye protection is strange. You wouldn't be able to see a thing. Are you going to cut some holes or put some glass in there?"

"Nope. When I ride _him_ -" Hiccup jerked his thumb toward the black dragon that was currently rolling around on the ground with little Gretta from the Bog Burglar tribe, scooping up leaves with his wing and throwing them into the air. The little girl would dance in the rain of leaves and then pick up a handful to toss above the dragon. Grub stiffened at the sight, but it was clear that she was having fun, laughing and giggling. Stoick was watching and seemed to be content to allow it to continue, so Grub figured he could just ignore it and let someone else take responsibility.

"He can share his sight," Hiccup continued. "Dragons are telepathic, ya know. Not "control your mind" sorta telepathic, but they can project thoughts to each other... sounds, images, feelings, anything between the ears, really. You will learn a lot more about that when I blindfold myself, hop on his back, and play catch, but suffice to say that dragons do talk, but not with words. Toothless can share his sight with me so that I can actually see the world around us through _his_ eyes."

Grub grunted his acknowledgment and continued to split shakes. It all sounded like silly, mystical hocus pocus, but he decided to let it go for now.

 _Let the boy have his delusions._

"So, you can hear dragons and the Nadder wanted you to answer my question... on her behalf?"

"Yup." Hiccup winked. "But you're not fooling anyone, Grub Woolbottom of the Greenbelly tribe. You ask a simple question, but there's a deeper one behind that. You don't want to ask it, but you still seek an answer, one that involves more than just a number. Stormfly asked me to be her voice... to tell you a little bit about herself. It's..."

He trailed off, lost in thought. With a blink, he brought himself back to the present, pulled his foot back to release the shake from the shave horse, grabbed another to be squared, and secured it, locking it in place by pressing his foot against the pedal. Grub noticed that the rider's left foot was amputated, replaced with some strange-looking iron artificial limb, and internally smacked himself for failing to notice that before.

"She sees something in you, Grub," Hiccup continued. "She wants you to succeed, which is why she asked me to tell you her story." He fixed Grub with a hard stare and his expression instantly turned somber. "This is not a small thing she would casually do for _anyone_."

Grub picked up a shake he just separated from the wooden round and tossed it at Hiccup, who had just released a newly squared shake from his shave horse. It was a casual, but kind gesture to save him from bending down to get one from the ground.

"Fine, then. Tell me."

"She cracked her egg on dragon island. That's what we call the volcanic island where _all_ the dragons that raided us were nesting. They were all controlled. Their free will was stripped away by the Red Death. They literally had no control over their actions."

Grub tossed another shake at Hiccup and kicked his depleted log to the side. It was getting too small to be of any use, so he got up and grabbed another one. Even though it was only a quarter of a round and hardly waist-high, it was very heavy for its size, attesting to its tightly packed growth rings. Excellent roofing material.

As he lifted the log, he squeezed out, "Red Death?"

"Oh, sorry," Hiccup said. "You'll hear more about it tomorrow evening. It was a very large dragon. I'm talking eat an entire family-sized house in one bite kinda large. I'm talking burn your _entire_ fleet in a single breath of fire. It always stayed on Dragon Island, but sent the dragons out to raid the islands around here to bring back food for her. It controlled the dragons, somehow. It dominated their minds such that the dragons literally lost any sense of free will."

"So, that's how we're going to ride dragons? Use similar mind control techniques to tame them?"

Hiccup ground his teeth as he stared at the wooden shake he was working on, taking a deep breath.

"No. We'll get there, but back to Stormfly. Like every other tribe, we captured dragons and used them for training. Stormfly was one of them. Astrid and I actually trained against her. Well, that's what it _looked_ like. The reality of it is, though..." Hiccup winked. " _She_ was training _us_. We never caught on, but since I started conversing with the dragons, I learned the _real_ story.

"You see, when a dragon is captured, it regains its mind and free will. There's something about our minds and what we passively project that overrides the Red Death's control. That's why a dragon raid never lasted too long. Any dragon that gets captured is exposed to us so much that they sorta 'wake up'."

Grub flipped his log and aligned his froe. "Uh-huh."

Hiccup casually leaned on the shave horse. "Try to imagine, if you will, what it would be like to wake up one day and realize that _everything_ you had ever done in life was a hoax, forced upon you by some cruel beast for its own entertainment. If you can imagine that the dragons are another Viking tribe that was seduced by some enchantress or something, how do you think they would feel after waking up?"

Grub flicked his eyes over to the Nadder, which was still a comfortable distance away, but staring intently at him.

"I guess betrayed. Hurt, depressed, angry?"

"Pretty much. You're accurate in principle, but now multiply by the number of trees in the forest. They were frothing mad the day they were captured. I'm sure your tribe has observed the same. It takes a couple of days of just keeping them locked in a stone cell before they calm down enough to even allow you to feed them. Now, imagine this was _you_. Imagine that you just woke up to realize that not only you, but your _entire_ tribe had their free will stripped from them and was forced to do slave labor, fighting and dying merely for the entertainment of the cruel beast that had dominated you for your whole life. This wasn't just menial labor. This was the worst sort of humiliation solely for the Red Death's entertainment. They were forced to the lowest depths of depravity. They weren't even cognizant of it at the time, but after getting captured and waking up from this mind control, they can't help but remember every, single, last, humiliating detail."

Grub flicked another glance at the Nadder. Its attention was no longer on him, but on Astrid, who had some nails in her mouth and was tapping a wooden shake into place.

"Alright, I guess I may as well. So, I wake up from a trance to realize my entire tribe is a bunch of draugr."

Hiccup grinned. "I like that. It's actually a decent analogy. Now, you wake up and realize that you have been captured by another tribe. They're not an _enemy_ tribe, but you cannot communicate with them and they think you're still a draugr. In talking to your other formerly draugr cellmates, you learn that they regularly make their youth fight you in what we shall call draugr training. Sure, maybe you can kill the trainees. Maybe you can escape your confines. But then you will just become a draugr again, long before you can hope to claim vengeance against the Red Death. You will go back into that trance and degrade yourself, once again, for its entertainment. The only release from this trance is to be captured, like you are, or to die. What would you do?"

Grub thought on that for a moment.

"I'm assuming that, after waking up, I conclude that this draugr life is worse than death?"

Hiccup nodded. "There is no room for doubt and the degree to which this draugr life is worse than any death or torture is so great it cannot be measured or expressed in words. Also, there's no room for doubt in your mind that the Red Death is simply too big and tough for any living creature to destroy, even if all the tribes in the Archipelago were magically able to stop bashing each others' heads in and all cooperate in a coordinated siege."

Grub looked over and saw the Nadder staring at him, again. "I feel you're leading me to only one answer, which would be to do my best to train my captor tribe to become better at capturing or killing off my draugr brethren. If you cannot lop off the head, then bite the hand that feeds it. Perhaps it would die to starvation. If nothing else, I could spare some of my tribemates from this degradation. Is that what you're getting at?"

Hiccup nodded and turned back to his work. "Yes. Great minds think alike as that's _exactly_ what the dragons did. One more thing I'd like to ask you. If, one day, the Red Death is destroyed and all your draugr brethren are instantly freed from the mind control, free to live their own lives, how would you feel? How would _they_ feel? Would you feel regret for the lives you took while under the mind snare on principle alone because you were _forced_ to do it? Do you think it would be easy to forgive yourself, deal with your past, and move on with your life? Would you expect or hope that the other tribes you've ravaged while under the mind snare could maybe, someday, come to forgive you?"

Grub stared at the Nadder, which had her eyes locked on him, body completely rigid and still. He let out a long exhale and said, "I…"

"I'm not expecting an answer, now," Hiccup quickly tossed in. "We're living in this aftermath today. You've noticed the dragon raids ceased two years ago? The Red Death was destroyed and all dragons were released from their draugr life, but _that_ is a story I'll be telling in detail tomorrow night."

"I thought nothing could kill the Red Death?"

Hiccup winked. "So they thought."

Grub paused in his work. There was a little girl, not even in her teens, wrapped around the Nadder's leg. The beast was walking around with slow, exaggerated strides with her neck craned down and around to look at the girl as she enjoyed the ride with laughter and giggling.

"That's Tofa, by the way," Hiccup casually said. "She's the one person who can hear dragons without having to touch them. Well, I can hear Toothless without touching him, kinda. I'm hoping that, as I continue training, I'll become more sensitive, like her."

Grub rolled his eyes. "Riiiiiight."

"Anyway," Hiccup said as he stood up, "That's what Stormfly asked me to share with you. You think dragons are evil and that they only kill, destroy, and steal, and nobody can blame you. _She_ certainly understands and considers it a sign of wisdom that you do not trust them. She has no clue what sort of evils you've seen, but she can see the echoes of it in your eyes when-"

"Are you finished?"

"What?"

It took Grub several unnecessary swings of the mallet to realize he was accomplishing nothing as the froe was already buried in the wood. He clenched his teeth and gave the froe a couple twists and thrusts, separating another shake.

"Grub, really, I'm sorry. I swear I wasn't trying to pour salt in the wound."

"It's fine."

"Right..." Hiccup pursed his lips. "I'm going to go check in with Dad, but I'll see if I can find someone to help you out."

"Send Hauk."

"Is he one of the Hysterics? I've been meaning to introduce myself to them."

"No, he's from my tribe, but the Hysterics came in along with us. He has been a good friend for many years and my apprentice for a couple. If you see someone who practically walks on his knuckles as much as his feet, that's him."

Hiccup nodded with a grin and turned to walk to the longhouse.

"And Hiccup..."

Hiccup turned around.

"Uhhh, you can tell the Nadder she has my sympathy. I can't imagine what that would be like."

"You can tell her, yourself, but it's not your sympathy she wants."

"What does she want, then?"

"Your forgiveness and, if it is not too bold to hope for, your trust."

Grub set his eyes to the froe in his hand as he shifted it into position. A swing of the heavy mallet drove it in. Hiccup was still there, looking, waiting for some sort of response.

"Well, I guess..."

SHHRK

"The highly improbable-"

SHHRK

"Is not entirely-"

SHHRK-CRACK

"Impossible."

########

* * *

########

"And _that's_ pretty much how my first ride with Toothless went. Desperately clinging to his tail for dear life and trying to figure out how to work the darn tailfin so we don't smack into a rock and die. And _this_ guy-"

Hiccup reached a hand back and affectionately slapped the neck of the Night Fury against which he leaned as he sat by the bonfire.

"This sly, devious devil, after showing him that I can help him fly again, guess how he ends the ride? After _all_ the fish I've given him and helping him fly and whatnot, how does- Toothless!"

Hiccup burst into laughter as his dragon gnawed on his arm with toothless gums.

"He tossed you in the lake!"

Hiccup spared a sideways glance at Tofa, who was sharing the same scaly backrest, as he batted away the dragon's head. His Terrible Terror, Dart, chirped as he shifted to balance atop Toothless' forehead. He was the one and only Terrible Terror Toothless would allow on him and only when he was in a good mood.

"We have _got_ to work on your dramatic timing, Tofa. But, yeah, that was my first flight with Toothless."

Hiccup scanned the crowd with a grin plastered on his face.

 _This. Is. It!_

Everyone had arrived. Finally! Almost every tribe in the barbaric archipelago was represented here with two Vikings from each, ranging from nine years old to Grub's elderly 25. Gobber was there to keep an eye on things and serve as the impromptu village elder. Hiccup also had support from Astrid as well as Fishlegs. Stoick had already flown back to Berk to resume his duties as chief after he was satisfied that the longhouse repairs were going along well. He had a joint responsibility with chief Mogadon of the Meathead tribe and, while they don't always get along, the desire to keep a working relationship between them was just as much of an incentive to oversee the repairs as his desire to make sure Hiccup had what he needed for this training.

Fortunately, the weather was clear for tonight, allowing for a nice bonfire outside. This would also help the students, since they would not feel trapped inside a building with a dragon. Some of them, like Grub, were definitely uncomfortable without a large bonfire or several paces between him and the nearest dragon. Spurred on by Tofa, Gretta and Gerd, from the Bog-Burglar tribe, developed a habit of hurling themselves at the snout of every dragon that landed on the island to wrap themselves around its maw in an awkward hug. Hiccup had warned them that this would be a bad idea with any dragon that wasn't from Berk, but the dragons that will be looking for a rider will be elsewhere for the next few days to "get the students ready to even be _around_ dragons."

Hiccup had prepared some training and exercises for both Vikings and dragons and would be island-hopping quite a bit in the next few days to divide his attention between both parties. All the riders and their dragons will be pitching in to teach the students how to approach and work with the riderless dragons. Hiccup had even worked out with Toothless some things he could share with the riderless dragons to prepare them for the quirks and particularities of interacting with Vikings. It was exciting to think that Berk's dragons would be doing some teaching, too.

His straining eyes could barely pick out those sitting on the opposite side of the bonfire and he thought he might have made out Thuggory's scowl. Thuggory was only a year older than Hiccup, but almost as big as Fishlegs and more devious and mean than Snotlout and Tuffnut combined. Like many other Vikings, he believed in all that might-makes-right yak crap that Hiccup always rolled his eyes at, including splitting a rock with his forehead to prove… something.

Thuggory has always looked down on and despised Hiccup for being the heir to his ally tribe and not even having the decency to die and spare the world from such a weakling. However, he knew he'd get into too much trouble if he actually caused major injuries to Hiccup, but bruises, torn clothes, black eyes, and a broken nose were common symptoms to exposure to Thuggory. Dragging Hiccup's face through the mud seemed to be one of his favorite activities.

Dissuaded by the fact that even a sideways glare would turn Toothless on him, the brutish heir had been giving Astrid a hard time all day. Now that Astrid actually liked Hiccup, she was not shy in showing her support and Thuggory took that in a sour way. Hiccup had been working on keeping the peace. To his father, this dragon training was a tool to keep the peace by introducing dragons into other tribes. To Hiccup, though, this was an opportunity to confront some aspects of the Viking way. Mainly, the aspects that involved conquest and such. He saw these students as an opportunity to show them that kindness and compassion could accomplish what threats and conquest cannot. Besides, a dragon won't allow a slave driver on its back.

Not too long after arriving, Thuggory got a little lost in the moment and threw Hiccup to the ground. Toothless was all fangs and fury, but he heeded his rider's silent plea to stay back so Hiccup could deal with it calmly. However, Astrid was not so easily sated. She shoved her way right past the growling Toothless, Nadder in tow, punched Thuggory's nose in, and shoved his head into Stormfly's maw.

Of course, Stormfly would never bite down, even if Hiccup wasn't projecting his disapproval as vehemently as possible. Thuggory was scared to death. He was outmatched against a rider who seemed to have command over dragons, in his eyes. Hiccup rushed past Astrid to apologize and assure him that the dragons were peaceful. Astrid would have none of that "peace-mongering yak shit", as she called it, and simply yanked Hiccup out of the way because she wasn't done with Thuggory, yet. It wasn't until Toothless muscled his way in, heeding his rider's silent request, and forced Astrid back that the fight finally stopped.

It was terrible for everyone. Thuggory was close to working up the nerve to touch a dragon, Hiccup could _feel_ it. Now, he was always casting leery eyes at all dragons, especially Stormfly. It was critical for Berk to have friendly allies with dragon riders instead of enemies who want to sack Berk out of spite for their dragons and Astrid was doing a lot more harm than good. Hiccup tried to explain this to her. They needed calm and peaceful students so they end up with calm and peaceful riders who would not betray Berk or the dragons. That cannot be done by fighting aggression with more aggression. If that requires a little ducking of one's head and turning the other cheek, then so be it. This was Hiccup's show to run and, no matter how unpopular the notion may be, he would not fight fire with more fire. "Fight fire with water," he would say, but Astrid's response was the icy shoulder.

He really wished she would just trust him more instead of shoving him aside to do things her way. He knew from experience that humiliating Thuggory like that will only worsen their relationship. A man cannot be trained the same way as a horse or any other animal. He cannot be beaten into shape like hot iron on the anvil. One must be subtle in changing a man's behavior or viewpoint. He must _think_ he's doing things for himself, by himself, against all odds and opposition. One must slyly make the desired outcome look like what he wants to do. _That_ was the game at which Hiccup has become the master as the runt of Berk and he had no desire to change the rules.

Hiccup liked Astrid, _loved_ her, even, but if she was a threat to his game, how could he deal with her? Ask her to stay on Berk? Ask Stoick to give her orders that would keep her away from this class? No, that would be fighting fire with fire and only make things worse and many good people would get burned. Hiccup didn't know what proverbial bucket of water could douse the flaming Astrid. Well, he had _an_ idea. Toothless would absolutely hate it, but what else was new?

Hiccup shook himself back to the present.

 _Focus. Objective thinking._

Helping the other Vikings feel comfortable around dragons was the goal for now and kicking off the training with some simple storytelling and show-and-tell around the bonfire seemed as good an idea as any. He had already passed around one of his older versions of the tailfin for people to see.

"And guess what this big oaf-" Hiccup stuck an elbow into his dragon's shoulder. "Decided to do to me after we ' _land'_ in the lake?"

Toothless sprung to his feet, took a single leap backward, and coiled up his haunches, waving his tail in the air behind him. He started to pant excitedly with his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. Dart, having been tossed off by this motion, sprang up and hopped in front of Hiccup, mirroring the Night Fury's stance.

Hiccup casually picked up Dart and idly brushed a thumb along the dragon's teeth. "Healing rib, Bud."

Toothless gave a dramatic groan as he flopped to his side.

"It's already healed!" Tofa declared. "Toothless says all his purring and slobber made it _all_ better."

"So, you're saying we should try that, ourselves? Give a dragon some fish and hop on while it eats?"

Hiccup jerked his head toward the voice and recognized the speaker to be Hauk, who was sitting partway around the bonfire.

"What?! Oh, no nonononoooo. Bad idea. In fact, Toothless and I are _terrible_ role models. Please don't imitate us too much. What I did that day was stupid. In fact, _everything_ I had done after I cut him loose was just plain idiotic and don't anyone even _try_ to tell me otherwise."

Toothless groaned as he craned his neck around to gnaw on his rider's arm again. He didn't project any specific thoughts, but Hiccup could feel the dragon's disapproval. Toothless never tolerated _anyone_ degrading his rider.

"You know what I mean, Bud." Hiccup softly said. Turning to the others, he said, "We were both lost souls, I guess you could say. At that time, we both felt disappointment in ourselves and abandonment from those who had surrounded us. If _any_ other person did what I did or Toothless was _any_ other dragon, well, I think _someone_ would have ended up dead. I actually have plans, Hauk, to show some do's and don'ts for approaching a dragon you've never met before. But _please_ don't expect that anyone can try that with any dragon and get off as lucky as I did."

"Fair enough!" Hauk bellowed out with a chuckle.

Hiccup continued his storytelling about his adventures with Toothless in those first few weeks before killing the Red Death. A couple times, as the night dragged on, Toothless sprang to his feet and sprinted around, away from the gathered Vikings. He was as much a cat as he was a dragon, enjoying naps and spontaneous bursts of senseless rampaging throughout the day. Meatlug and Stormfly, who were very cooperative in keeping a distance from the more timid Vikings, got up and ran and grappled with him, too. Most of the students seemed to actually enjoy such antics... from a distance.

Before Hiccup got to the part in his story where he made his stand in the Kill Ring to try to show his tribe that dragons can be friends instead of enemies, Toothless shifted over to pin him on his back. Hiccup looked up at his dragon and let out the umpteenth yawn for the night. It was getting very late, after all, considering he had been working on switching from his regular nocturnal sleep schedule, which meshed so well with Toothless, to waking with the rooster. As if to make a point, Dart hopped down from his perch on Toothless' head and started licking his ear.

"Ah- Ewww, Dart! Toothless, I demand justice. Lick him! Lick him now!"

The Night Fury immediately complied and Dart leaned into the tongue and crooned in contentment. Hiccup gave them a goofy grin.

"I guess you have a point, though, Bud." Turning his head sideways to look at the others, he said, "To be continued, I guess. Hey, guys, we're gonna have dragons in the Southern longhouse, leaving the Northern one dragon-free. If you want to sleep with us, though, I swear on my life that no dragon here will attack you unprovoked. Toothless, Meatlug, Stormfly, and Grump are very kind and gentle dragons. It's the _riders_ you need to worry-"

"Hiccup. That's. Enough." Astrid's cold, acidic voice cut him off. He looked over at her, but she barely spared him a glance before going inside. Her stride was smooth as butter, but tense as the rigging of a tempest-tossed sail. The fire was still raging within her. He could practically see the metaphorical spring winding tighter and tighter with every little taunt or jab from the students, every perceived injustice Hiccup would let go without retort in favor of keeping the peace. Astrid would always unwind that spring by chucking axes at trees, but the roof repairs kept everyone very busy. That spring was quivering with tension and was ready to unwind with explosive force at any moment.

Hiccup reached up to the Night Fury's maw. "Hey, Bud, can you gimme a-" Another cavernous yawn escaped his mouth. "Hand?"

The dragon grabbed the outstretched fingers in his toothless gums as he stood up and leaned his head back, pulling his rider up to his feet. They made their way into the longhouse, which was recently modified with larger doors to accommodate dragons. Hiccup was not surprised to see who chose to sleep here and who chose the other longhouse. There was hope that his conversation with Grub would have softened him up a bit, but it was clear to see that Astrid's spectacle pushed him back several steps.

Hiccup gave a weary sigh as he walked toward the longhouse and grumbled. "Vikings! If people like you, you're doing it wrong!"

Now that he was on his feet, the weight of all the activity and excitement from the day started to catch up. His last waking moment was spent collapsing on a blanket as Toothless curled up around him.

Hiccup awoke in the familiar and comforting darkness under Toothless' wing. His face was mashed against one paw and his arms were wrapped around the foreleg that was snugging him in tight to the dragon's torso.

He got up and set into the usual routines. Gobber organized people to stoke the fires back to life and get some food ready. There was no way it could have been coincidence that the tasks he gave Astrid and Thuggory kept them far apart. It will help a lot that, tomorrow, Astrid and Fishlegs would be rotating with the twins and Snotlout, taking turns participating in training and their regular duties on Berk, patrolling the island and various other tasks for which a dragon was particularly well-suited.

Perhaps asking Astrid to go back this morning would be a good idea. Perhaps she wouldn't completely hate him for even suggesting that. Perhaps one could flap his arms and fly like a dragon, too, and control the weather by sheer willpower alone.

As the morning meal was wrapping up, Hiccup noticed Toothless crouched low in a defensive stance, weight shifted back on his coiled haunches, tail pressed hard against the ground, wings half-unfurled, snarling at... nothing. Absolutely nothing at all.

He approached the dragon from behind and said, "What's wrong, Bud? There's nothing- ACK! Toothless!"

The dragon slapped him with the tail and shifted over to keep Hiccup behind him. Astrid came up beside him.

"What's up with Toothless?"

"He sees something!" Tofa cried out, pointing to empty space in front of the Night Fury. "Another dragon... she's _right there_! We can see you! You can't hide from a Night Fury!"

Hiccup wanted to see whatever Toothless was seeing with those sensor flaps crowing his head, too. He started to take a step forward, but stopped and dropped his jaw when the empty space in front of him was suddenly filled with a dragon. It was hardly larger than Toothless, a rusty-orange color, wide torso, flat white belly, four legs, and large teeth. It spit a little acid just in front of it and roared at Toothless.

Hiccup glanced back. "Hey, Fishlegs, that's a-"

"Ah... ch... cha... chaaaaann-n-n-n-n..." Fishlegs was too scared to talk as he literally quaked in his boots.

Hiccup groaned and slapped a hand to his face. "Changewing. Just... great. Hey!" He waved a hand at the dragon, focusing on projecting the telepathic equivalent of a tap on the shoulder. The Changewing locked eyes on him. "Hey, talk to us, pal. What's got you so upset? We want to be your friends, not enemies. If someone stole your egg, we'll help you find it. We learned our lesson about _that_ last year. Someone probably thought it was a pretty stone and-"

A figure broke through the treeline from behind the Changewing, shouting, "Teaser! There you are! What in the frozen Hel are you- Woah, nononono. That's Toothless and Hiccup. They're _friends_."

"Camicazi?" Astrid whispered in disbelief.

The familiar voice of Thuggory shouted from behind, "Oy, only two per tribe allowed here. Cami makes Three. You gotta send her back!"

Hiccup groaned and slapped his face. "Great. Just... great."

"Let it go, Thug. She's probably a rider here to train us for all you know. See the rope around her waist and the Changewing's neck? That's probably _her_ dragon."

That would be Grub. Hiccup kept his ear on the conversation behind him, but his eyes on the Changewing and Camicazi, both of whom were not making any aggressive moves, but seemed to be stunned as they took in the situation.

"Shuddup, Grub Woolbottom of the _deceased_ tribe!" Thuggory shot back.

"The Greenbelly tribe is not deceased, but _you_ will be if you dare to draw your weapon and say that to my face!"

"Greenbelly?!" Camicazi shrieked.

Hiccup chose the most inopportune moment to shift his attention from the pair in front of him to the Vikings that were gathering around behind. In a blur of motion, he just caught sight of Camicazi pulling something out of her jacket and winding her arm back. An instant later, he could see Stormfly lunging into Grub, who was burdened down with a large pot in one hand and a sack of food in the other. They were dropped to the ground as he tumbled from the impact to land back on his feet with his sword in hand.

The distinctive, high-pitched, shrieking roar from Toothless and a lower roar from the Changewing drew Hiccup's attention to see Camicazi sprawled out on her back under the Night Fury's paw. Meatlug and Grump, Gobber's Hotburple dragon, stood between the Changewing and Toothless, returning its roar with their own.

"Stormfly! Stormfly!" Astrid shouted frantically at her dragon. "Are you okay? Grub, back! Back!"

Hiccup whirled his head around to see Astrid pulling a knife out of the Nadder's torso, just behind the base of her neck. The blade had found a spot between the scales, but the cut would not be deep. Stormfly immediately sprinted over to join Meatlug in staring down the Changewing.

Hiccup ran up next to Toothless, who was snarling down at Camicazi. The poor girl was in shock at finding herself in such a situation. He put his fingers in his dragon's mouth, wrapping his thumb around the upper jawline, and pulling him off of Camicazi. Of course, he wouldn't have been strong enough to even budge the head a hair-width, but Toothless heeded his gestures.

"Toothless, back. Let her stand."

Camicazi shakily stood as quickly as she could.

"Cami, what is going on?" Hiccup demanded. "What are you doing here? Did you _really_ ride that- Wait..."

Hiccup just started to put things together in his mind. Camicazi threw _something_. Stormfly slammed hard into Grub and a knife hit her.

"You tried to kill Grub! What is _wrong_ with you?!"

Hiccup couldn't imagine what the crazy girl was even thinking! Sure, she always had a hot temper and would spend every moment of every inter-tribal Thing picking fights, but this was insane by even _her_ standards. What, did she just plan to impress everyone by sticking someone with her knife and then… flying off into the sunset? Did she think she'd be the only rider at this event? Did she think Toothless would have become slower since she saw him last month? How deeply must she hate Grub to just strike out of the blue like that? It was low, even for a Burglar.

Despite all the escalations, Hiccup wanted nothing more than to ask how she befriended a Changewing out of all dragons. They have always been very reclusive.

Camicazi stood, panting through some deep breaths, pointed a finger at Grub and shouted, "That _bastard's_ tribe attacked _my_ people. He deserves death!"

Hiccup slapped a hand to his face.

"Great. Just... great."

Grub walked up, sword drawn, pointed directly at Camicazi, shouting, "Your _bitch_ tribe thought we were easy prey after that raid that razed our homes. Those prostitutes deserved _every_ arrow they got!"

"Vikings!" Hiccup threw his hands up in exasperation as he moved between them. "Gotta love 'em. Hey, I don't like you, so I'll kill you and that will make the world a better place! Look at me! I'm violent, therefore, I'm cool!"

Camicazi shoved Hiccup out of the way. Hiccup picked himself back up to hear the clanging of sword striking sword. He yelped and moved to rush in and break up the fight, but icy fingers painfully dug into his collarbone. He turned around to see Astrid looking none too pleased.

"Hiccup, This is _not_ your fight. Camicazi hurt _my_ dragon. You will _not_ get yourself injured or killed for their sakes."

"But-"

"Let them kill each other for all I care."

Hiccup tried to pull free from Astrid, but she just dug her fingers in deeper.

Hiccup yelped. "Astrid!"

"If you can't keep yourself out of trouble, I'll do it myself!" She said as she dragged Hiccup away.

Behind them, shouting and sword strikes could be heard. Everyone was gathered around to watch, taking bets on who would kill the other. Hiccup cast a pleading look at Astrid, who just continued to drag him away and into the woods.

Hiccup sighed. "Just... great."

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Thanks for reading! This turned out to be quite long, so I hope I didn't put you to sleep. You probably guessed, but you can expect to see more Grub and Camicazi as we go on. Also, I dunno if draugr are a real thing in Norse mythology or just an invention of Skyrim, but I couldn't resist using such a term regardless.

Also, thanks JR 0 for beta reading this chapter.


	9. A Rough Start

**A Rough Start**

Toothless spared a half-hearted snarl at Teaser as he walked past her. She would need to do more to gain his trust than just tell her name and say her rider is Firefly's friend. Such trust would be even harder to earn after her rider hurt Stormfly. It was superficial damage, though. Besides, Toothless scared her half to death, so they were almost even.

Almost.

Zealot stormed off into the woods with a death grip on Firefly's arm, dragging him along. Once again, they disagreed on how to handle a situation. Nothing new there. Those two argued from time to time. Almost all land-striders do that a lot, fighting with noise more than physical contact, though one can lead to the other.

Those two land-striders they left behind were fighting, probably to the death, shiny-claws swinging, nothing held back. As much as Toothless wanted to watch, he left them behind to keep an eye on his rider. Stormfly was also following along, so Toothless sidled up next to her and started to lick at the blood dribbling out of the wound at the base of her neck. She tilted her head away to expose the area better and crooned and trilled with joyful contentment at such a gesture.

Lost in the moment, Toothless ended up rearing back and placed his front paws against Stormfly, shoving her into a tree. She playfully nipped at him, but allowed him to continue licking her neck until the bleeding stopped.

Zealot was _still_ arguing with Firefly about the conflict she was currently dragging him away from. She was content to just watch those two fight and kill each other. If they die, then so be it. Land-striders kill each other all the time. No big deal. It wasn't her problem to deal with.

Toothless was of the same mind, but he has always balked at opposing his rider's decisions. When Toothless was shot down, newly freed from the queen's mind snare, he looked up at the land-strider that took him down and wished only for a quick death, but Firefly gave him a new life. When Toothless realized he lost his tailfin, he resigned himself to a life as a worm that would soon starve to death or go insane, but Firefly put him back in the clouds. When Toothless and his rider fell from the sky, separated and tumbling in the wind, Toothless concluded they were both doomed, but Firefly pulled them through. When the demonic queen broke through her mountain to confront her attackers, Toothless just knew they would all die, but Firefly crossed the ocean just to save his dragon.

The dragon was not gifted as his rider was with imagination and what could only be some sort of clairvoyance. How could he tell his rider that he was wrong to feel concern for those two land-striders fighting back there? How could one be certain this was not yet another example of the rider knowing something to which the dragon was blind?

Unlike Toothless, though, Zealot had absolutely no reservations. Though not as gifted as Firefly, she too was a land-strider, which meant she had the amazing ability to forget and invent and make blind leaps of logic. She vehemently told Firefly to yield to her way of handling the situation, which was essentially to beat these land-strider students into order instead of plead and exhort and reason with them. This wasn't just about the fight she was dragging him away from. No, this was just one more symptom of their different mindsets and it really crawled under Zealot's skin.

Content to allow the riders to do their thing, Toothless wrapped his teeth around the base of a sapling. He could feel the frustration and indignation from both riders and it was starting to affect him, so he clamped down and twisted his neck hard. It was surprisingly resilient for its size, though, compared to the trees on his home island that stay green throughout the winter.

A sharp squawk from his side was his only warning of impending collision as Stormfly leaped up over him, barely brushing a wing as she pounced higher up on the sapling. Their combined efforts uprooted both the sapling and his sullen mood. This led to a natural transition into their favorite game where they would fight for possession of the sapling. One would eventually relent just for the sake of chasing the other around and try to clamp down on it again.

Toothless gained possession and pranced around the riders as Stormfly chased him, hoping to distract them from this confrontation that had both of them radiating misery and frustration. He made sure the slender branches brushed against them to distract them from arguing with each other.

WHAP!

Toothless stopped dead in his tracks at a sound that was painful just to hear. Stormfly wasn't as quick to react and the two tumbled over, but he leaped to all fours and crouched at attention, eyes focused on the two riders. Dart, who had just swooped in to join them, hissed and fanned his wings.

There was nobody else around, but both riders were in pain. Firefly hardly winced. Through the pain, his face and emotional hum showed only disappointment. He straightened his posture, but it must have hurt a lot, judging by how one entire side of his face was starting to turn a bright red. Zealot was shaking her hand out from the stinging sensation. There was nothing playful going on at all.

Toothless growled. He could tell what was going on. Firefly was doing it. Again.

Toothless was all croons and warbles and goofy faces, but he would never tolerate anyone deriding or disrespecting _his_ precious Firefly. Those silly creatures sometimes forgot who it was that saved them all from the dragon raids and needed a good snarl or nip to remember. Once, a land-strider, named Ornery by the dragons, made the foolish decision to threaten Firefly's life. Naturally, Toothless snarled and snapped his teeth, deciding on the most satisfying way to tear that miserable creature apart, when Firefly put himself in the way. Toothless was so deeply rooted in his rage that he just had to bite down on something immediately and that _something_ happened to be his own paw. He was limping for days until it healed.

Firefly apologized that his way of handling that confrontation got his dragon hurt, but he had no regrets that he thwarted a violent clash. It was just one of many situations where Firefly was actually trying to train his dragon and condition his responses. Just as the dragon was trying to sway his rider to stand his ground more and bear his teeth, the rider was also seeking to make his dragon less aggressive and to control his emotions. They both had an effect on each other.

Firefly was doing the same thing to Zealot right now. She was bearing her teeth - literally, as adorable as those little things were. Push had come to shove. All their roaring and mewling and thinking with their lips was getting them absolutely nowhere. Zealot never was one to resolve any conflicts by calmly reasoning with the other party as Firefly would. No, she was one of the most dragon-like land-striders in existence. She was resorting to her usual fallback of physical aggression.

Firefly would not allow his dragon to get involved, though. He was training Zealot the same way he trained his dragon. However, unlike Toothless, she did not have the respect for Firefly to go to any lengths necessary to spare him from her aggression. It hurt to watch, but Firefly simply took it. It was clear for all to see that she had been under increasing tension over the past couple days. Her conversations with different land-striders had gotten her wound up and she was bound to lash out at someone sooner or later. Firefly's crazy solution was to make himself the target of all that pent-up aggression so nobody else would be on the receiving end.

He asked Zealot if she felt better after hitting him. There was no remorse or hesitancy as she confirmed it with an upturned lip and a spiteful glare.

Toothless slunk in closer, a growl rumbling his throat, but Firefly put a hand on his snout and silently pleaded with him to back off. Firefly insisted to Zealot that if hitting him once felt good, then another would be better. Zealot seemed shocked for all but a blink of an eye. He roared at her to hit him again.

WHAP!

Firefly stumbled backward, but managed to stay on his feet. He straightened his posture again as if nothing happened and flicked a tongue out at the blood seeping out of the corner of his mouth from where his teeth had cut through the lip. As much as it hurt to watch, Toothless knew exactly what his rider was doing and it was pure agony to just watch without taking action. Firefly was teaching her an important lesson about respecting him and he needed to do this by himself.

Most creatures fight fire with fire. Aggression is the response to aggression. Death answers to death. Firefly, on the other wing, was as different as one could ever get. With every act of aggression, his resolution to keep the peace only drove the aggressor mad. With every blow, he stood a little taller, his resolve more clearly defined, his brazen determination stronger. The more he was beaten down, the more apparent it became that nothing could break him.

That was the entirety of his life before he shot down Toothless. He was a lamb among a pack of wolves, a weakling where no weakness would be tolerated. He acknowledged the disappointment of his peers for his stunted physique, heard their derisions for his inventions that failed, and took their beatings for their frustration that he wouldn't break. Then, he would patch himself up, quench the flames, stand taller than before, and rebuild his dreams grander than ever.

It had taken Toothless a while to learn that physical aggression or a display of dominance would only make Firefly more resistant. His body may be weaker than most, but his resolve was insurmountable. Zealot, it would seem, has yet to learn this lesson.

Dart stood on his hind legs and hissed at Zealot, wings flared, smoke wisping out of his nostrils. Toothless flicked his eyes down to the little blue dragon and warned him off. Ever since Firefly found him, starving, injured, and on the verge of death and brought him back to good health, he had an unwavering loyalty toward Firefly. However, he still has yet to learn about trust. Toothless knew that he had to trust his rider to know what he was doing. Trust in Firefly was the dragon's only stability in life.

Regardless, it was absolute misery to watch. He slunk in and allowed a growl to escape as he lowered his head and caught his rider's hand on his snout to speak to him.

 _{Firefly, stop this now! Not even Zealot will escape my wrath. I will not stand here and watch someone treat you like this!}_

Zealot was trembling, not at the dragon, but at Firefly. Her usual approach of beating any opposition into submission was working against her this time. Her anger and frustration intensified. Firefly stood his ground, a physically stunted, but indomitable monolith.

She slowly shook her head. He barked at her to hit him again and spared a quick glance at his dragon.

 _{Then look away, Toothless.}_

Toothless did not comply.

WHAP!

Every nerve in Toothless' body roared at him to pounce this miserable land-strider and protect his rider's safety and dignity. His jaw twitched, his legs quivered, his whole body was set to leap to action. The internal struggle against his desire to rip her arm off was tougher than any fight to overpower another dragon. Toothless knew he had to trust his rider as he had seen for himself the consequences of pushing him aside to leap into the fray. The first and last time Toothless ignored his rider when he was dead-set on a course of action, he ended up shackled to a land-strider sea vessel, leading those fools to get roasted by the demonic queen.

Toothless ended up just extending a wing to support his staggering rider as he coiled up into a crouch and let out a heartfelt snarl that made Zealot instinctively step back in fear. He took a menacing step forward to continue driving her away, but Firefly put a hand on his dragon's snout, lunged forward, and threw his arms around her, pulling her in close and closing his eyes.

Her whole body trembled. Her rage drained like blood from a gaping wound. Firefly's resolve was even stronger now than before the confrontation. He beat her down by doing absolutely nothing and Toothless could never figure out that sort of land-strider magic. Zealot weakly beat on his shoulder and mewled at him to explain himself, to tell her why he did this, why he made her hit him. Toothless knew the answer, though she couldn't hear him. It was how Firefly handled opposition.

Firefly is a healer to those who deserve suffering. He gives to those who deserve nothing. He trusts those who should be regarded with suspicion. He praises those who deserve only scorn. He inspires those who would rather not act.

This, more than his heroism in destroying the demonic queen or his clearly-defined projected thoughts, is why dragons naturally respect him so greatly. It is his nature. It drives Toothless crazy with concern all the time, but it's what defines him. Its what makes this little Firefly simply enchant and bewilder Toothless to such a degree that he can almost feel his mind shut down whenever Firefly stares into his eyes.

Firefly stared into Zealot's eyes with that same challenging look of determination that nothing will ever break his spirit. He stared at her with those same eyes that completely drained the rage from a dragon way back when he was injured and angry. Those eyes poured out an ocean of compassion, completely quenching Zealot's fire.

They remained in that position for a long time, tightly grasping at each other's backs. As they started to talk again, Toothless came to realize that he was wrong about one thing. Zealot hadn't just felt insulted that Firefly handled things so differently from her. It wasn't just anger that fueled her rage. It was fear.

She felt threatened.

For her whole upbringing, fighting was life. It was a necessary way to live during the dragon raids; anything else would have led to extinction. However, such a deeply-rooted past is not easy to let go. It clings like a leech and will never release. It hides where it cannot be found. It lashes out when it is sought. To remove it, you have to cut off a piece of yourself, but self-preservation instincts make it hard to do.

Zalot felt completely helpless at the idea of doing things Firefly's way. The fear of loss prevented her from accepting such change. It wasn't a sign of weakness, but a side-effect of the tenacity that allowed the land-striders to endure the dragon raids. Well, that and land-striders were stubborn to a fault - almost as much as dragons, in fact.

Firefly liked her a lot and she knew it. She liked him a lot and _he_ knew it. They envisioned a future of becoming mates. Their culture would require that she would submit to his will, but she has always been uncompromising. They both wanted to make this work, but they also recognized the difficulties. She would have to trust Firefly and beat down her own impulse to aggressively lash out all the time.

Both riders looked over at Toothless, who snorted at them.

Yes, just like a certain Night Fury just did.

Now that Zealot was thinking clearly again, she actually regretted what she did. She dragged Firefly away from one fight he was trying to end and started a new one. She knew he would be heartbroken if either of those land-striders back there were seriously injured or killed and that was a very real possibility. They really were set on killing each other. Though it almost killed her to do it, she actually apologized that she chose such an inopportune moment to confront Firefly about his passive ways.

Toothless knew those two land-striders who were trying to kill each other were fine, though. With the range offered by his array of sensor lobes, he could see the events through Meatlug's eyes. It was an entertaining fight to watch that was like two snakes coiling up and lunging at each other again and again. Teaser's rider almost died, but her opponent showed mercy solely for Firefly's sake. Firefly almost collapsed with relief when Toothless passed it on.

A poke startled Toothless from his reverie. Stormfly had one end of the sapling in her maw and waved it tauntingly. Whether she simply wasn't concerned or had a greater trust in both riders, she kept it to herself. After all, for how freely dragons could share thoughts, they usually kept it all inside.

He whirled around in a blur and grabbed the other end. His tail slapped against his rider, but he heard laughter and felt mirth and relief pouring off, so it was alright.

And, so, the game resumed. One dragon had four short legs while the other stood atop two longer, more powerful legs. One had a stronger neck, but the other had a better grip on the sapling. They were actually fairly evenly matched.

Toothless was about to release the sapling so he could chase Stormfly around, but was startled when it suddenly grew heavier. He flicked his eyes to see his rider climbing up to balance on top of it.

The game suddenly became a lot more interesting with the added difficulty and the new goal presented. Toothless and Stormfly locked eyes as they worked in unison to keep Firefly balanced on the sapling spanning between their maws, constantly projecting thoughts that came across as subtle tugs and pushes, telling the other to go this or that way to help the rider maintain balance. It was almost like how Barf and Belch would communicate with each other to perform a task.

As the dragons started to master the art of balance, the two riders almost lost control of themselves in a fit of laughter. Firefly almost doubled over, but the dragons shifted to keep him balanced. In fact, as their confidence increased, they started to slowly walk forward and twist around each other, introducing another level of difficulty.

Firefly shouted with glee and encourage them on, pointing ahead, occasionally hunching over in a fit of laughter. The slow plod of the dragons quickened into a trot as their confidence increased. Toothless noticed a lake nearby and shared with Stormfly a devious plan that was forming in his mind. She gave out a muffled trill of joy as she shifted course.

Firefly was so lost in the rapture of this new game that he didn't notice the lake until it was too late. Both dragons splashed in and gave a big heave to the sapling, sending the rider into the refreshingly cold water. Well, the cold was refreshing to the _dragons_ , at least. Firefly wasn't quite as enthusiastic.

It would be good for his stinging face, anyway.

Zealot came trotting up and stopped a couple wingspans away from the edge, playfully mocking him for getting into such a situation. The laughter died down, though, when she was suddenly flanked by two dragons prowling menacingly around her. She pretended to struggle, but ended up splashing in next to Firefly.

It would be good for her stinging hand, anyway.

Stormfly cawed out with mirth as the two dragons leaped in unison, gaining a little more height with a flap of their wings before descending down on top of their riders, who already dove beneath the surface.

 _{Life is so much better for everyone when land-striders just stop talking, isn't it, Toothless?}_

The black dragon plunged into the water and wrapped his front legs around his rider, then surface upside down with Firefly laid out on his belly.

 _{Yes it is, Stormfly. Life is absolutely wonderful!}_

########

* * *

########

"Away to me... Aaawaaay... There... Come by... lie down... Come by- Overtake!"

Grub grinned as a yak loped away from the herd in favor of a greener patch of grass and ferns. Following the commands, his dog, Rusty, sprinted around to cut off the yak. Naturally, the shepherd was given charge over the livestock on this island and he decided to take the five yaks out for grazing in the stump-littered field around the longhouses. It would provide exercise for the cattle and his dog as well as preserve the limited amount of hay available.

Yaks were picky eaters when it came to dried goods and would not eat grain. However, they would eat almost anything green from the ground. Grazing the goats along the edge of the woods surrounding the longhouses to clear out the poison ivy was next on the agenda.

Another side-benefit of herding the cattle out to graze also appeared to be in providing entertainment, judging by the Vikings gathered around. Most of them were from these northern islands and couldn't afford to have dogs with how frequently they were raided by dragons, so such a show was a lovely novelty to them. They were mostly content to watch in silence, but some were cheering for the Yak to kick the dog.

There were a couple people missing from the crowd, like Astrid. Somehow, Hiccup convinced her that she needed to go back to Berk for a while. Somehow, the boy also had a red face and a split lip. If that was what passed for courting, then Grub decided these Hooligans really do live up to their reputation.

Camicazi wasn't there, either. She ran off into the woods after they had fought. The girl never actually challenged Grub to a duel, but simply lunged at him with a sword. He had discarded his own sword in favor of the wooden oar that was lying nearby. Camicazi was fast with blades, but Grub had years of experience over her and was quite competent with staves.

He also had a dog.

He could have killed Camicazi right then and there. He had every right to do so. Camicazi never declared a duel, so he was simply defending himself against attempted murder as far as the law was concerned. It was sorely tempting. She was just a Burglar, after all. Just another dirty filcher. Leeches, all of them. Cowards, backstabbers, and thieves. When they show up to port, it's safe to assume they're either trying to steal anything of value or sell what they have already stolen for a profit – or all of the above at the same time.

Despite all that, Grub decided to spare her. Many voiced their disappointment, but it was obvious she was Hiccup's friend. Even though he had been dragged out into the woods by Astrid, he would have been heartbroken to return only to learn Camicazi had died. Breaking or angering one's teacher wouldn't help in this class. Grub knew he was a lost cause and could never work up the nerve to approach any of the scaly beasts, but Hauk stood a good chance. They have always been good friends before Grub took him as an apprentice shepherd and always wanted what's best for him. So, technically, it was Hauk that saved her life by simply being here.

Grub made her vow in front of everyone there that she would never attack him or Hauk so long as they were on this island. She swore it on her life and Gobber, being the eldest, bare witness. Any act of aggression from the girl would make her head fair game to anyone on this island. Even if an attack by her is not answered, Berk would be honor-bound to acknowledge the legitimacy of the blood feud and that would bode ill for the Burglars in the eyes of all the other tribes. She was safe, though, as long as she stayed in line and Bog-Burglars have always been far too selfish to take such a risk, even for the sake of pride.

Her bruised side, throbbing headache, and bloody tooth marks on her arm would be a good reminder to keep her in line, but it didn't stop her from chasing after her dragon, which had disappeared into the woods.

 _Good luck finding an invisible beast, girl._

Whether she would be allowed to stay or not would still be determined later today, probably, when she returned with or without her dragon. Grub didn't care either way. She was no longer a threat. After thanking Grub for sparing her when he had every right to kill her, he set off to go find her and her dragon to make sure they were alright.

He shook himself back to the present. It is never wise to get distracted when training a sheepdog.

As Rusty overtook the escaping yak, he came around and snapped his teeth at the beast. It towered over him and charged, but the dog danced around, snapping at his legs. Rusty was showing a lot of potential. He could tell that this yak didn't respect him and wasn't afraid to draw a little blood. Just like with that Burglar, it's sometimes necessary. In this case, though, the yak was worth far more than a dirty filch, but the dog knew that if he couldn't command respect or fear, he couldn't keep the cattle in line.

Grub was prepared to assist and already had a sling readied with the loop at one end around a finger and a stone in hand. He swung the sling and snapped the stone, pegging the yak on the side of its snout. The animal reared back and dashed straight for the rest of the herd. Such creatures were normally docile and cooperative. Apparently, whoever raised this one did not spend much time with him at all.

A short while later, the herd made it over to the dense patches of ferns and grasses and became completely occupied with grazing. It was very rough forage, but the yaks were indifferent.

Rusty was showing excellent control in staying far enough away to avoid spooking them, but close enough to keep them in place. He was almost to the point where Grub could whistle any command and see an immediate response. Back home, when Rusty was a little suckling pup, nobody wanted him because his fur was red instead of black and white, but he was actually the pick of the litter. When Grub inspected the pups, he could tell this one would turn out fine by observing how he would react to getting knocked down.

 _Joke's on them._

"Lie down... That'll do."

Grub let out a loud whistle that playfully trilled up and down and the dog reacted to the command, sprinting toward his master, giving the herd a wide berth. He leaped up at Grub, who wrapped one arm around him and scratched behind his ear with the other hand. Rusty wiggled his tail and licked his master's face.

Hiccup walked up next to him with a grin and said, "Toothless does that to me, too."

Grub looked over at him. Rusty seized the opportunity to lick the other side of his face.

"What, leap into your arms, or cover you in slobber?"

"Yes."

Grub chuckled as he set his dog down and fetched some strips of smoke-cured meat from his pocket. Rusty gently grabbed it from his hand and gulped it down. When he finished, he casually sniffed at Hiccup's leg, who reached a tentative hand toward the dog, but stopped to look up at Grub.

"Ya, go ahead. You can pet him. He's quite friendly."

It was actually quite amusing to watch Hiccup reach forward, let the dog sniff his hand, then start to stroke the top of his head. For some strange reason, the boy focused heavily on the underside of the jawline. He eventually worked his way towards the haunches on the back, then the side. Rusty rolled over and received a belly rub with his tongue hanging out and leg twitching in the air. The black dragon, which was sprawled out an acceptable distance away with a couple younger girls climbing all over it, made a high-pitched gurgle.

Grub tensed.

"Ah, don't worry," Hiccup said. "He's just complaining that someone is getting a belly rub and it's not him."

As Grub started to relax back into a crouch, Hiccup continued, saying, "Ya know, I'm probably starting to sound like a skald who knows only one piece, but Toothless is just as approachable and gentle as Rusty, here."

"You're not the only one who wants me to succeed. I know what weight I bear on my shoulders on behalf of my entire tribe. I know you want us all rolling around on the ground with 'em. I'm trying. It's just..."

"It's just you have no respect for me."

Grub frowned. "Lad, I never said that-"

"Yes you _did_!" Hiccup furrowed his eyebrows. Grub was too stunned at his boldness to retort. "Your actions speak so loud they drown out your words, sir. You won't approach Toothless because you think he'll harm you. You think he'll harm you because you don't trust me when I tell you otherwise. And you don't trust me because you have no respect for me. You came here, where we're supposed to learn to befriend and ride dragons. By now, I'm sure it's safe to say you recognize that the dragons respect me, but _you_ don't. If I am nothing to you, then I cannot help you and you certainly need my help. I want to see you succeed, here, so tell me what will it take to _earn_ your respect?"

Grub threw his head back in roaring laughter and pat the dog hard on the side. Rusty rocked from the impact and playfully nibbled on his hand. Hiccup stared in confusion, clearly unprepared for such a response.

"What..." he said, trying to find his tongue. "I don't get it."

"It's-" Grub squeezed out between gasps of laughter. "I was just- Hoo hooooo! I... I was _just_ training Rusty… and here you are. Heehee. I suppose I can't blame you for becoming a sheepdog."

As Hiccup's raised an eyebrow, Grub continued, saying, "Every sheepdog has a herding instinct. He wants to move them somewhere, but if the animals don't respect him, he snaps at them to scare them into obedience. A sheepdog that is not respected by the cattle cannot move a herd and is useless. And now, you... you... I guess I gotta hand you _that_ one, dragon rider."

Hiccup put a grin on an otherwise confused face. "So... I'm a sheepdog and you're a yak? I'm not going to bite your leg."

"No," Grub said as he started to sober up, "but... dammit! I'm _trying_ , Hiccup! I really _am trying_! I tried approaching the Nadder, but I couldn't get closer than maybe ten paces away. I just _can't_! I realize how silly that sounds to you, but you have _no_ idea what it's like. Just the fact that I've stepped foot on this _island_ is a testament that madness has taken me."

Hiccup grinned. "And I bet you're a better man because you did that. _Hold on_ to that madness, Grub. I know you're my elder and here I am trying to tell you what to do, but... well... It took Dad a while to warm up to them, too. You've seen him on Skullcrusher, but that was a _recent_ development. Even though his own son rides a dragon, for almost two years, he was never comfortable around them. I'm just surprised that you've been affected by the dragon raids more than most other people, even at your age. I want to help you. I really do and I believe I can, but I can't help a stranger."

Grub stared at Hiccup with an inquisitive look. It was almost confounding to hear such talk from someone like this.

"You know your image really doesn't fit, Hiccup."

The rider grinned. "Looks can be deceiving. Would you love Rusty any less if he was covered in scales instead of fur?"

"Subtle, rider. Too subtle. Went _right_ over my head."

Hiccup grinned. "I've never been known for tact. Speaking of which, your tribe is the one that always used a lot of arrows all the time, right? I heard you guys fared well during the raids."

"They were infrequent compared to Berk, maybe six... eight times a year. However, we learned how to manage them. We could never succeed too well with the ax and hammer approach, being so spread out, but twanging arrows like the dragons are just a bunch of scaly Frenchmen seemed to work well."

"Yeah, Toothless actually told me that, back when he was under the control of the Red Death, your island was the most frustrating to raid. The Red Death forced him to act as a sort of commander, you see, and he had the hardest time keeping the dragons on task."

Grub looked over at said dragon, which returned his stare for a moment. A little girl, Gretta, if memory served, was perched on its head and tumbled down to the ground from the motion with a yelp before getting up and climbing back on. She will grow up to be a determined woman who will press toward any goal with great unrelenting determination. Unfortunately, being a Bog-Burglar, her goal will be to leech as much as she can from good people. It's what they do.

He shrugged his attention back to the rider and said, "It wasn't just our choice of weaponry that explains that. If you get good at working a sling, for example, a stone to the snout can be a very effective deterrent. Watch out for the Nadder quills and keep your sword and shield handy for the Terrors and you're good to go with the range advantage over how far they can lob out fire. The dense forest slows 'em down a lot so they can't easily close the distance. Centuries ago, we learned that they stay during a raid for only a limited amount of time. It's like they're always in a frantic hurry to get what they can and go. So, we learned to manage them with that in mind. Once you figure out what drives them, they can be manipulated and managed just like any other animal."

"Hey-"

"I know, I know." Grub said as he held up placating hands. "I haven't forgotten all you said about dragons being smart and doing math and confounding the most sophisticated scholars in philosophical debate and whatnot..."

Hiccup actually laughed at the satire as he buried his face in Rusty's side. "HA! I just... ahahahaaa... I don't even..." he squeezed out between sobs of laughter. "Hoooooooo... Go on."

"Well," Grub continued, "We figured the best way to endure the raids wasn't to directly assault the beasts, but simply distract them long enough until they left. We would set up the cattle in the forest, where the dragons were forced to land and spread out. Their fire would burn the ferns and ground cover, but the larger trees were mainly unaffected. We dug wide furrows to effectively divide the forest into sections so the fire cannot spread. Anticipate a raid coming and you can even use the dragons to help manage and cultivate the forest by clearing out the brambles and such. We'd lure them one way with a lone, exposed yak, then have arrows and slings and dogs ready to spook them. Then, the dragon suddenly decides that the lonely goat over yonder is a _much better_ target. Rinse and repeat until they've up and left. We'd lose some livestock, but hardly any people. It really wasn't that bad."

Hiccup was staring with wide-eyed awe. "That... Is... _Brilliant_! How come _we_ never thought of that?"

"Because it ain't manly enough to stroke your ego?"

Hiccup chuckled and said, "Yeah, sounds about right, but that doesn't explain why you're so _wary_ around the dragons compared to everyone else here. I would think you of all people would be less concerned about their proximity. I mean, Stormfly can tell there's something else. Toothless says he can tell... he's especially sensitive to... well... those lobes around the back of his head boost his ability to pick up emotions and such."

"Uh-huh."

"Grub, c'mon, I won't tell a soul. Promise. You came here for a reason, right? Your tribe is counting on you to succeed here and become a rider. _I_ want you to succeed. I really don't know if you're secretly some sort of drama queen who wants to fail and cry about being a victim…"

Grub glared at Hiccup, who only shrugged and said, "Glad that's not the case. Then tell me, how am I supposed to help you if I can't understand what's hindering you? Hmm? I really believe I can make a difference, but I need you to help _me_ help _you_."

Grub sighed as he held up one arm to his side. Rusty trotted over to duck under that arm and lay down to receive some petting.

"C'mon," Hiccup said. "Afterward, I'll tell you about a part of my story I skipped over last night when Toothless almost bit off my head."

Finally, Grub spat out, "We got greedy. Simple as that."

There was a long pause. Hiccup patiently waited. Grub never liked talking about this. He lost _everything_ and all anyone could ever do was nod and hand him a mug of ale.

"We wanted more glory, I guess," Grub said. "We figured that if smaller arrows and lightweight bows were good, then bigger arrows would be better. Why irritate and injure when you can just go for the kill? About three years ago, we started buying heavy yew longbows with arrows that were sturdy enough to handle it. Instead of our simple, traditional stone and bone arrowheads, we invested our life's worth in hardened steel heads. We also bought up some crossbows with steel limbs from mainland traders. The thinking was that if this stuff can break through platemail, then maybe we can use them to take down dragons and be rid of them once and for all."

Rusty whined and barked at his master, leaning into him. Grub idly put a finger in the dog's mouth and Rusty gently gnawed on it.

"We also set up some traps that actually would kill a dragon or, at least, immobilize or injure it enough that we could finish it off. We planned out paths for the dragon to follow to chase after someone or some animal, only to fall into tread traps. With a foot stuck in the ground, they would either stay there until we could safely kill it or bite its own leg off to fly away."

Hiccup cringed at that.

Grub fixed him with a stare. "Ever see a Spanish Windlass? That's the one with the swinging arm under tension with a spike at the end. It can bag you a nice fat rabbit or rat."

Hiccup grimaced. "Multiply its size by a hundred?"

"Yep," Grub said. "We found spots with some trees that we would lash together around the spiked arm to provide the killing force. It would take a large winch and very heavy rope to set the trap. It also took only one foolish mistake for a man to kill himself. Happened a few times. If it can pierce a dragon's skull, imagine what it could do to an unfortunate Viking."

Hiccup had a sick look on his face as he engaged in a staring contest with the ground.

"Sorry," Grub said. "I'll stop."

"No," Hiccup quickly spat out. "Please, go on. So, these traps and heavier arrows and bows worked?"

"Yep." Grub sighed. "Like a charm. We changed tactics to be more aggressive and were able to kill many dragons. The tribe of shepherds, farmers, craftsmen, and traders became a band of bloodthirsty warriors. We lost a lot more as a result – livestock and Vikings. But we thought we were making progress. On some nights, we killed fifty, eighty, a hundred, even, once. You get a heavy arrow through the neck and it'll die, scales be damned. Stick it near the wing joint and down it goes, giving you a good setup for another arrow to the face. Tie up a sheep in front of the triggering mechanism for our dragon-sized windlass and stick poles in the ground to force the dragon to come in from a specific angle. BAM! Dead dragon."

Grub heaved out a sigh. "Then, the last raid we ever had was the worst by far. Have you ever heard the Burning Shepherd?"

"Can't say I have."

"I once heard someone put it to music on a lyre. It was... hauntingly beautiful, but the words are what I'm really getting at."

Hiccup smiled. "I'm up for poetry."

Grub began to recite the poem. He was never one for singing, so he just spoke the words, instead.

 _Where once was life, now ashes fall.  
Where once was joy, it is no more.  
Don't say goodbye.  
Don't say that we must die._

 _This blood we spill, is falling rain.  
For all the pride that took us, we fight in vain.  
And we will weep as we face the end alone.  
We are lost. We can never go home._

 _So in the end, we'll be what we will be.  
In all out plight, no help we ever see.  
Now we all go by.  
Live for all those who died._

 _These tears we cry, have come too late.  
Give back our lives, our pride, our shame.  
And we will weep as we face the end alone.  
We are lost. We burn with our home._

Silence reigned for a while as both Grub and Hiccup stared at the ground. Finally, Hiccup spoke to a little stick in his hand. "So that's what happened to your tribe? Pardon me, Grub, but it sounds like a typical raid, but I wasn't there..."

"It was the most massive dragon raid I've ever seen. At least three times as many dragons as normal. They wouldn't succumb to our usual tactics, but went _straight_ for us. The damn beasts didn't even care about stealing our cattle. They were out for blood. We felled many dragons, but most of us died. We were almost a thousand strong, but barely a hundred survived."

Hiccup looked over with sad eyes, full of compassion.

"I'm so sorry, Grub. I have never seen anything like that... I thought I had it rough having lost my mother and a few cousins, but... damn... words just don't even..."

Grub shrugged.

"Maybe it was because there was no Night Fury during that raid. Without it, they were focused on killing instead of stealing. Perhaps that dragon of yours was a sort of good luck charm, even under the Red Death, that prevented them from doing too much damage."

Hiccup's face twisted and his jaw dropped. "Wait. What?!"

"I guess it changes nothing, really, when you think about it."

The rider suddenly stiffened and stared at the ground in front of him. "I did that," he mumbled. "I caused that."

The Night Fury jumped to all fours and gurgled at its rider. Grub sprang to his feet and his hands instinctively wrapped around the sword handle.

"Toothless!" Hiccup shouted, jumping to his feet and stepping forward, between dragon and Viking. "C'mon, not now. Just... Just go find something else to do for now. Please?"

The dragon gave a high-pitched roar that sent little Gretta running toward the others with a squeal before spinning around and bolting off into the woods. The sounds of snapping branches and claws raking against trees soon followed from that direction.

"What was that?" Grub asked. With the dragon gone, color started to return to his whitened knuckles.

"Nothing. Nothing. Toothless hates it when I... well, it's just... I just realized that _I_ caused that big attack."

Grub scoffed. "You got a big heart, kid, but _we_ caused it. We allowed our pride and greed to control us. We were fine for _centuries_ , but we _had_ to get greedy. Let that be a lesson to consider as you get more dragons at your back. This attack was the gods punishing us for pretending we're something we're not."

"To Hel with the gods!" Hiccup snarled.

"Ironic, considering that Hel is precisely-"

"There were no gods involved! Alright? There's only _men_ and _dragons_ and all the other critters in this world."

Grub shrugged and said, "Sheesh, don't work yourself into a knot."

Hiccup flushed. "Alright, alright, but listen. Two years ago, I shot down Toothless and, well, you've heard my story about how all that went. I've spoken to several dragons that were part of the Red Death's nest. Apparently, the Red Death was _furious_ at the loss of her precious black dragon. For a while, the dragons actually got a rest from raiding, but after a couple weeks, well... I stopped them from telling me what happened after. Now, I know."

Grub placed a hand on Hiccup's shoulder. "We did it to ourselves, lad. We used to be that one pesky tribe that was hardly worth raiding. _We_ turned _ourselves_ into a target. They would have attacked someone else, otherwise. Maybe, if they didn't attack us, they would have attacked Berk. Maybe they would have killed you and we'd still have raids to this day."

" _Maybe_ isn't good enough for me. I... dammit, I should go take care of Toothless."

"Tell this to nobody."

Hiccup raised an eyebrow. Grub fixed Hiccup with a stern stare.

"In the wake of the raid that almost wiped us out, the Bog-Burglars came to our island. They called it a trade visit, as always, and included trying to seduce our men and filch what they could along with their trading, as always. When they learned about just how badly the dragon raid devastated us, they became quite… feisty. They tried to take everything we had and attacked us when we resisted. Word spread to the village and the camps throughout the woods as fast as a fox can run and the invading Burglars were hunted down. Their flashy clothing made them easy targets to spot in the woods. They answered us defending our own island with another raiding party, but they were forced to retreat and sail away, clearly unprepared for our arrows. We were ghosts in the dense forest. That's why Camicazi was screaming bloody murder. Wouldn't want anyone _else_ getting any big ideas to pounce on a target they think is a pushover, right?"

Hiccup grimaced as he held up a hand in oath. "It'll come from your lips or not at all."

Grub flicked a smile. "I appreciate it."

"Besides," Hiccup said as he took a slow step back, "After I find Cami and Teaser and make sure they're secure here, I'm flying off to the riderless dragons and they're not much for gossip."

"The _dragons_ need training, too, eh?"

"Let's just say you're not the _only_ one who's struggling so hard to approach the other species. You don't give up on me and I won't give up on you. Deal?"

Grub gave a more genuine smile. "We have a deal, rider."

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Thanks for reading! Also, thanks for dropping a line, VigoGrimborne. I try to be as sparse as possible with dialog tags, but I was one can short of a 6-pack last chapter. It was actually Thuggory who called Grub's tribe deceased, which let Cami draw the association and go crazy and strike out. I made things a bit clearer thanks to your feedback.

Also, thank you JR 0 for beta reading.

So, I got a very subtle Easter egg reference if you've read my other story, "Hookfang's Tale". In chapter 9, Toothless was explaining how, when he first took Hiccup and Astrid to the Red Death's nest, he deceived the Red Death into thinking that he was currently living on a different island other than Berk. The Red Death sent out a massive raid to wipe out Toothless and any of his Viking allies, but she missed and ended up assaulting a different tribe. The Greenbellies happened to draw the short straw, so to speak.

If you read that song near the end and thought to yourself, "Is it just me, or is that reminiscent of the track played during the LOTR2 credits?", then you'd be right. Search Youtube for "Gollum's Song". It'll make you want to hug Gollum and punch a baby seal in the face at the same time. Nobody deserves to be _that_ adorable. Nobody!


	10. Taking the Plunge

**Taking the Plunge**

Wind tore through Hiccup's hair as he and his dragon zipped through the air. The blue sky stretched out endlessly above a carpet of white, fluffy clouds that ate up the horizon. Without the protection of his helmet, which was secured to the saddle, his eyes stung, his temples ached, and his cheeks burned, but it was worth it a thousand times over.

 _Gods, I_ needed _this so badly!_

Hiccup looked past his feet at the dragon who practically kidnapped and took him hostage. Normally, getting knocked to the ground and unceremoniously tumbled around would only make him more brazen in his defiance against whatever Toothless wanted him to do, but he decided to make an exception this time and it turned out to be the best thing since bread-making Vikings sliced bread.

That's not to say that all the _other_ decisions were regrettable. For example, deciding to let Camicazi and Teaser stay here simply seemed right and it wasn't just because she was a friend. Sure, after Hiccup bared his metaphorical teeth and told everyone that she's staying and they'll just have to live with it, they all wanted to mob and burn him, but they'll get over it. If the very man she tried to kill would allow it, then the others could learn to eventually quit their bellyaching. Besides, she and her dragon could serve as an undeniable example of how his training, a heaping helping of persistence, and a little bit of luck could land someone on a dragon's back.

All the drama, though, was building up so much that Hiccup could even recognize the mood it put him in. So, when Toothless playfully knocked him around and dragged him to the saddle – and not the other way around – he relented and let the Vikings take care of themselves. Flying through the air with Toothless turned out to be an absolute _necessity_.

Well, Hiccup realized, it wasn't really _flying_ , but it had always seemed natural to use that term for _all_ things one does in the air with his dragon.

 _Falling? Nah. Plummeting? Dropping? Hmmm..._

 _Diving!_

His sky-blue terror, Dart, had teeth anchored to his boot, ready to grab him and try his darndest with his little wings to save the rider should something go wrong. Dart had joined him on a couple "trust falls" in the past, but could never be comfortable seeing him falling separated from Toothless.

Hiccup focused on a soothing calm, allowing it to project outward and seep into the dragon. The death grip loosened and Dart crawled up Hiccup's leg to mount on his back, tightly clinging to his shoulders and waist. Dart extended his wings a little bit – not too much, as the force would hurt him at this speed – but enough to control their fall. Hiccup laughed as the two angled a little bit this way and that, not really flying, but definitely falling with more control and grace.

 _Say, that gives me an idea. What if I use leather to make something that does what Dart is doing right now..._

The clouds engulfed the rider and the world was lost to his eyes. Dart screeched and tightened his grip. As they broke through the other side, Hiccup looked up at the infinite ocean below, blinking at the stinging, icy wind that seemed to bite even more with the accumulated moisture.

Toothless whined at having fallen behind. Whenever Hiccup angled himself just right, the big beast just could never match his speed. It was the one time he could gloat at being faster than his dragon. Then again, it was the one race he would never want to actually win in the end.

Hiccup held out his arms and flattened against the wind, allowing Toothless to graze past, wings folded, tail held straight out, mouth open, tongue hanging out and flapping in the wind. Hiccup grabbed onto the tail and climbed his way up its length, around the rear leg, under the wing, past the front leg, and down toward the head, where he held himself steady against the jaw.

"You were right, Bud!" He shouted. The wind tore the words from his mouth, but it was the excitement and other projected thoughts the dragon was hearing, anyway. "You were absolutely right and don't you _dare_ let me go that long in such a depressive mood!"

Toothless projected his joy and glee as he gave Hiccup a lick on the face. The tongue was actually pretty dry and hardly deposited any saliva with how the wind whipped at it.

Hiccup laughed at the dragon. The dragon gnawed on his head.

As they started to get closer to the ground, he grappled his way up to the saddle and clicked himself in. They leveled out and he donned his helmet and flipped the eye protection flap down. It blocked out all the light, but with the palms cut out of his mittens, he was able to make contact with Toothless and see through the dragon's eyes. The first thing he noticed was a Gronckle with a large rider approaching.

"Hey, Bud," Hiccup shouted over the wind as he leaned forward. "You up for one more?"

Toothless roared with joy at the rhetorical question. The Gronckle put on the speed to catch up in their ascent. Dart squawked at the realization he wouldn't be able to keep up and dove into Hiccup's lap.

"Hiccup!" Fishlegs shouted as he caught up.

Hiccup pointed up. "Race ya!"

The burly rider let out a sigh, which shifted into a grin. "You know that even Toothless can't match a Gronckle for rate of climb."

Hiccup shrugged and leaned low to hug his dragon's neck.

"I'm just checking," Fishlegs shouted over the wind between the loud flaps of the Night Fury's wings, which blocked both sight and sound as they were driven hard to gain altitude.

"You seemed-"

WHOOSH

"Really stressed-"

WHOOSH

"Is there-"

WHOOSH

"Anything you-"

WHOOSH

Hiccup quickly asked his dragon to tell Meatlug to tell Fishlegs that he was alright. Fishlegs stiffened in the saddle and a look of awe stretched across his face. Being the only other rider who could hear dragons, Hiccup knew he got the message.

"That is so-" Fishlegs shouted out in giddy excitement.

WHOOSH

" _Awesome_! I completely-"

WHOOSH

"-that we-"

WHOOSH

"-do that!"

Both dragons continued to ascend at a rapid rate. One buzzed straight up while the other pumped his body like a caterpillar in tempo with his wings. Meatlug zipped around Toothless with her tongue lolling out in sheer delight and he playfully nipped at the hardened ball at the end of her stubby tail.

Eventually, they broke through the clouds and Toothless snapped his wings out to leveled off so he could rest and his companion dragon wouldn't have to work so hard to maintain flight. Gronckles may have the advantage of vertical flight, but staying airborne gets harder the higher they go and they can hardly take any advantage of the stiff wind to gain lift. Hiccup figured they were plenty high for a fun trust fall, but nowhere near the excessive heights he and Toothless were before their previous dive.

Hiccup looked over at the larger pair that took up a pace to the side and shouted out, "Really, Fishlegs, I'm good, now. I really appreciate the concern, but I just needed to get away from all the drama for a bit. Remind me to listen to Toothless more often."

A grumble from said dragon shook Hiccup's body. He reached down and affectionately slapped the scaly neck.

"Anyway," Hiccup shouted over as he took his helmet off, "I think I should take my new elated attitude to the riderless dragons over on Toothless Tackle island. You wanna take charge of the games?"

Such games were actually something Tofa had cooked up and she would be helping out in running them, being the only one who could reliably hear all Berk's dragons from a distance. Vikings and dragons would be teaming up for some relay races and contests. All Fishlegs had to do was make sure the twins, who recently flew in to replace Astrid, didn't blow up the island or something like that. He straightened in his saddle at the responsibility placed on him.

"You sure you don't wanna stick around?"

"I _need_ this, Fishlegs. Please. Grub was almost murdered, then Cami was almost murdered, and now everybody wants to murder _me_ because I don't want either of them dead. It's all just stupid Vikings saying stupid things and doing stupid things and they all come baying at me for every stupid little thing and-"

Hiccup yelped as his dragon spun upside down. They finished the roll and returned to level flying. Hiccup couldn't stop himself from grinning.

 _{That's much better. If you go back to beating yourself up, I'll be forced to dunk you in the ocean.}_

Hiccup chuckled. "Anyway, Fishlegs, you've seen what all this drama has done to me. I used to be a pretty jolly person, I swear!"

The larger rider looked over with a grin. This high up in the air, nothing could dampen anyone's spirits. "Not your fault, Hiccup. It's a heavy burden and people are people."

Hiccup flashed a smile. If there was one creature in this entire world that would understand, it would be Toothless. If there was one Viking, though, Fishlegs took an easy first.

"Toothless and I will just tell stories around the campfire, so to speak, with the other dragons. I'll see if I can get that really reclusive Nadder to touch me."

Toothless growled at that. Even with the elevated respect the dragons had for the pair that freed them from the Red Death, some of them could still get very unnerved by a hand stretching out toward them. Said nervous dragons also happen to have sharp teeth and claws. Fishlegs spared a quick glance at Toothless, but wasn't bothered by such growling. He had grown used to it by now.

"Alright," Fishlegs said. "I'll let you know how it all goes. I'm not holding my breath for the Greenbellies, but maybe we'll break through the shell and get those Lava Louts and Berserkers to touch Meatlug or the BB." That was the unofficial nickname for the Zippleback heads of Barf and Belch. The Thorston twins also took on the same nickname when Tofa referenced them as a pair. Apparently, in a blinding stroke of draconic genius, the Zippleback named their riders after themselves.

Toothless flicked his eyes up to his rider. _{Who are these land-striders Benevolence is talking about? I can't quite tell from what he's projecting.}_

Hiccup hunched forward in a fit of laughter. Whenever he heard a dragon refer to Fishlegs with the name Meatlug had given him, it caused Fishlegs to blush. Hiccup focused on images of the Vikings being referenced as well as memories of the tribal crests he had seen in books and on their ship sails.

Toothless flattened his sensor lobes down against his neck.

 _{They are the ones who attacked a while ago, captured you, and made you drink that strange water that almost killed you?}_

"Yep," Hiccup casually said as he leaned back to secure his helmet to the saddle. "Among others. You know nobody here was in that invading fleet, right, Bud? It was their other tribe members."

 _{Meatlug, you like giving land-striders a hug, right? Do me a favor and hug them with your teeth.}_

"No!" Fishlegs shouted in surprise to his dragon. "You will _not_ hug them with your teeth. Don't you go listening to Toothless!"

The Night Fury grumbled and snapped at the Gronckle. They were too far apart to reach, but it was the gesture that counted. Hiccup laughed and slapped one of Toothless' sensor flaps, which naturally turned into a battle as Toothless twisted his neck sharply to fight the heavily insulated arms with his scaled sensor flaps.

"Really, Bud," Hiccup said as he batted at the scaly lobes. "You should - GUH - know by now that Meatlug- HA! Take that! - is as bad at keeping secrets as her rider - OW! Break my arm, why don't you."

The rider lunged forward and wrapped his arms around the Night Fury's head. Neither rider nor dragon was certain who won that bout, but Toothless trilled in contentment, anyway.

Looking up, Hiccup raised his voice and said, "Hey, Benevolence."

Fishlegs blushed and buried his head in his hands. It never got old.

"I was thinking about how we're teaching our students to trust dragons," Hiccup continued. "A refresher in the doctrine we preach couldn't hurt."

"I have plenty of trust in Meatlug, thank you very much." Fishlegs nervously angled his dragon away.

Toothless and Hiccup angled to pull up alongside again. "I was just thinking, being so high _up_ , there's only one way _down_."

"Technically," Fishlegs shouted back over the wind, "There are _many_ ways down. Meatlug and I happen to have a particular fondness for the sightseeing gradual-"

He stopped when someone blocked out the sun.

"You wouldn't!"

Hiccup's lips curled back into a feral grin. From his upside-down position, the sky below and the clouds above beckoned. He just finished releasing the straps that secured him to his saddle and kicked off of his dragon's back as gravity started to take over. Fishlegs never was a fan of trust dives, but looking back, he would be glad he did it. Probably.

"I would!"

########

* * *

########

"C'mon, grumpy Grump. Participation is not optional!"

Tofa grabbed the Hotburple's lower lip in her fingers and pulled with all her might. The dragon briefly graced her with a bored stare through lidded eyes before closing them again. She was counting on his participation in her _Dragons and Vikings races and games extra..._

"How does that go again, Mr. Benevolence sir? Dragons and Vikings races and games extra... extra-vinegar? Exra-gonza?"

Fishlegs buried his head in the side of Meatlug's neck to hide his face. It really wasn't a surprise to hear her use that particular name as she _always_ refers to people with their "dragon name". It always made him feel an overload of flattery to hear it.

"This is torture, Lug!" he declared in a muffled voice. "I'm tickled and all, but it's just too much."

"C'mon Mr. Benevolence sir," Tofa pleaded impatiently. "I hafta get this right. It's extra-what?"

Fishlegs peeled his face away from the dragon's neck. He had already given up hope of getting Tofa to just call him by his regular name.

"Extravaganza."

"Ah! Yes. Extra-ganza! C'mon, Grump. It's not every day you get to play in a Dragons and Vikings Races and Games Extra-ganza!"

The dragon gave a groan and rolled over. Tofa crossed her arms and stomped away, but a smile wormed across her face as she sidled up next to the Gronckle.

"Oh Meeeeaaatluuuuug..." Tofa called out in a lilting, patronizing voice.

The dragon replied with a lick to her cheek.

"Would you be a dear and do something for me?"

Meatlug bounced up to her feet and started to wiggle about. Being a dragon, she was the captain of her team and had already chosen Gretta from the Bog-Burglar tribe as her first team member, so she was already feeling excited. Tofa put on an evil smirk and casually pointed at Grump.

"Hug!"

The Gronckle took a leap and buzzed her little wings, shooting at Grump. At the very last moment, the big loaf simply sprang into the air with a speed that did not seem fitting for a dragon so bulbous and Meatlug zipped underneath.

"And that," Gobber said in a dry voice from where he stood nearby, "Is why I let the lump of scales do whatever he wants. What can any mortal do against _that_?"

After missing her target, Meatlug quickly dug in and ground to a stop, spun around, and looked at Grump with a slack jaw. Tofa could feel the confusion from the Gronckle and the satisfaction from the Hotburple.

"C'mon, Meatlug!" Fishlegs cheered. "You're an Ingerman and an Ingerman _never_ gives up!"

Tuffnut jeered from behind, "Unless a plate of food gets in the way- OOF!"

His twin sister, Ruffnut, socked him in the shoulder.

"Shh! I wanna see how this plays out."

Meatlug pawed at the ground and took off again. This time, though, she leaned back, taking advantage of a Gronckle's impressive agility in the air and slowed down just in time to react to Grump's evasive maneuver. She didn't quite tackle him, but they sort of glanced off each other and grappled around as they tumbled over the ground. It ended with them taking turns licking each other.

"Good!" Tofa shouted excitedly. "Now that we have awoken the slumbering dragon, I shall choose for him since he's currently occupied. Thuggory, you will be on team Grump."

Tofa figured that should be a good pairing. He had touched a dragon for the first time only this morning and it was like pulling teeth, so a dragon that would often be confused for an inanimate, scale-covered boulder would be a good match for him. That left only the Lava Louts and the Greenbellies to go. They were watching from the sidelines. Hauk was starting to warm up to the idea of approaching a dragon, though. Tofa figured he was getting close.

"Ha! It's only natural I get the _biggest_ dragon," Thuggory loudly declared as he strode forward.

Tofa thought it was adorable that he was holding onto such a facade when he was still nervous around anything scaly. She thought it was pretty funny. Those who have fought dragons before had the hardest time petting them. Though his face hid it well, she could feel it in the emotional hum. The very notion of being around a dragon without a weapon in his hand was unnerving.

It was tempting to see if she could silently project a request to a dragon to fly in and tackle him for fun, but Hiccup was _very_ adamant that a Viking would approach a dragon on his own accord or never at all. He had said that trying to force them to touch a dragon would only be bad and never good. Thuggory, for example, was _so_ close to approaching a dragon on the first day, but his little scuffle with Astrid and Stormfly almost ruined everything.

Lowering his voice a little as he walked past Tofa, Thuggory said, "Don't think it's a boy dragon, though, Miss. Scales are a bit light, dont'cha'think?"

"Trust me, Thuggory sir, Grump is _definitely_ a boy dragon."

Thuggory stopped and stared at her inquisitively. She could tell there was skepticism, but he wasn't entirely dismissing her. She liked that about him; he treated her like an adult and didn't make her feel childish. Despite what Hiccup said, he actually wasn't too bad of a person. Maybe he was simply intimidated by Hiccup.

"And how would you know he's a boy and not a girl? Did you-"

"Because," Tofa quickly cut him off, "I am the dragon princess and _nobody questions the princess_!"

Thuggory chuckled as he walked on.

Tuffnut piped up, saying, "You can tell because, on Berk, every dragon is the same sex as the rider."

"Wait, that can't be," Fishlegs piped up. "I mean-"

"Yeah!" He pressed on, cutting off Fishlegs. "You see, Toothless is a boy, just like Hiccup. So are Hookfang and Grump. Stormfly is a girl. We all know Zipplebacks are both - makes mating season really easy for them. And that matches the pattern because I'm a boy and Ruff is a girl, which probably fooled most of you- OW!" Ruffnut knocked her brother to the ground. From his prone position, Tuffnut straightened his helmet and said, "And Meatlug is a female, so..."

"But," Fishlegs said as he squinted in thought, "That would completely invalidate your logic because..." His face slid into a bored scowl. "Ha... ha... ha... Very... funny."

Ruffnut gave a sidelong glare down at Tuffnut." An astute observation, brother. However, as much as I condone and, dare I say, _encourage_ such dispensation of malevolent banter, I can't but feel as though-"

"Ya!" Tuffnut howled. "It's funny because I implied he's a girl and girls are so silly and-OOF!"

Ruffnut kicked her brother, who grabbed her leg and pulled her down to the ground. Fishlegs eyed them with a bored expression as they rolled around.

"Meatlug... hug!"

Ruffnut noticed the impending doom and immediately disentangled, rolling out of the way just in time. Her brother, though, was less fortunate and found a much larger opponent trying to pin him to the ground with greater success and much less difficulty.

Unlike Ruffnut, the dragon was also liable to lick one's face.

"I shall have vengeance!" Tuffnut declared with bravado as he shoved at Meatlug's tongue. "Belch! Ummm, shock Fishlegs. Uhhh, tackle?"

The Zippleback didn't move, save to lean over and lick Meatlug.

"Fine. Be that way! I order you to ignore me. Yes, good dragon. You're doing such a _good_ job!"

"Alright BB," Tofa said. "Once you are done licking the Nut, you may pick someone for your team. Remember, no riders."

The Zippleback walked up and Belch, the shocking head, tapped Agnar from the Mystic tribe. He tensed up and held a hand out in defense, but was starting to get to the point where he could trust a dragon. However, the other head pressed its nose into Camicazi's chest to receive some scratches on the snout.

Half the students wanted to either send off Camicazi or kill her for breaking the "Two members per tribe" rule while the other half didn't really care. The former half was clamoring to grab their metaphorical torches and pitchforks to make Hiccup send her back when the rider just took off. Meatlug filled in Tofa on what happened. Hiccup's idea to withdraw himself and let them cool off was working so far. Camicazi was being uncharacteristically cooperative, knowing the thin line she tread, and with Hiccup gone, all the haters could do was whine to Gobber. Said haters found as much success in _that_ as those who complained that they were here to tame a dragon, not play games with them. In other words, they would have been better off whining to a boulder.

Still, just because Camicazi could join the game didn't mean BB could pick her along with someone else for free.

Tofa rolled her eyes. "You can only pick one, BB. We're counting you as one dragon for this. Make your choice."

The two heads hissed and snapped at each other as though they forgot that their necks joined the same torso. The Vikings nearby took a couple uncertain steps back, but Tofa thought it was really funny. Both heads, though independent in mind, had full control of the same body and felt the same things. Barf wanted Camicazi because of all the stories Toothless had shared about how the younger Bog Burglars were very skilled at giving belly rubs. Belch, though, was more focused on winning. In the end, Belch was a gentleman and allowed Barf to pick Camicazi, but insisted that if she didn't give marvelous belly rubs, then he would choose next time.

The drafting proceeded and, eventually, the three dragons each had a team of eight Vikings gathered around. Tofa went through the different games they would be playing.

The first was a simple relay race to run across a field, grab a scrap of meat from the latest goat that had been butchered for food, run it back to the starting line, and feed it to their team's dragon. That one was Astrid's idea. Nothing builds trust like giving a dragon a fish and observing that you didn't lose any fingers. The pressure of competing against the other teams would help break through any timid reservations.

The second was brilliantly named by Ruffnut as "Draggin' Dragons." Each team had a simple sled made of logs lashed together that would slide over the slick leaves that had accumulated on the ground. The dragon would lay on the sled and the Vikings would pull on an attached rope to a turn-around point. There, they would switch and the Vikings would quickly secure the rope to the dragon's harness and then pile on the sled to be dragged back.

The third and final game was purely the spawn of Tofa's wild imagination, inspired by her time spent in the woods with her Terrible Terrors. The Vikings had to catch as many fish as possible from the inland lake, trickling streams, or the ocean off the beach. They weren't allowed to use any man-made tools, but their dragons and anything found in the woods was free game. The catch, though, was that the dragons couldn't touch the water. Tofa and Fishlegs, along with her six Terrors to act as relays, would be cycling among the three teams to make sure the dragons understand what the Vikings are trying to say. Sometimes, the thoughts a Viking projects when speaking can get distorted, and as some were starting to learn, repeating themselves louder and more slowly didn't help at all.

After Tofa excitedly ran through the different challenges, Fishlegs sidled up and jokingly said, "I can't tell, Tofa, are you excited about this at all?"

"You know it, Mr. Benevolence sir! I just wish Firefly were here. I think he'd have a lot of fun."

"I'm sure he's doing just fine with the riderless dragons over yonder."

"Yeah!" Tofa squealed. "With so many dragons around, He and Toothless must be having the time of their lives!"

########

* * *

########

"Toothless, get off me, you big oaf!"

Hiccup felt a grumble from the dragon that was sprawled out on top of him as the only reply. They had been spending most of the afternoon with the riderless dragons on Toothless Tackle island, surrounded by a bunch of dragons that Hiccup liked to tell others were, "The few, the proud, the extra-curious."

Earlier this year, the very notion of getting a group of dragons who would want to acquire a rider would have sounded like the dream of a madman, but Hiccup was happy to be that madman who would make the dream a reality. Sure, there always were dragons around ever since the Red Death was destroyed. A lot of the dragons from the Red Death's nest flocked to Berk, dazed, trying to come to terms with how creatures so small could play a part in their salvation. Of course, there were many dragons and Berk had only so much space and wildlife, so they dispersed right after Hiccup woke up to find he was missing a limb.

It wasn't until Berk had acquired a so-called dragon whisperer as a resident and the riders learned that they too could train to hear dragons speak, that the idea of rallying together any dragons interesting in gaining a rider was even considered. Also, while being kidnapped by a fleet of thousands of bloodthirsty Vikings intent on burning Berk to the ground didn't exactly sound like a splendid day, there was no denying that the dragon raid organized to rescue him was the start of these "wild" dragons and the Hooligans paying more attention to and even approaching each other. Recently, the fishing ships started making small detours past some islands surrounding Berk to share some of their fish and the guts they would have otherwise tossed away with the dragons.

Hiccup looked around from his position under Toothless' belly.

 _And now I'm surrounded by over twenty of them, plus Terrors, all seeking a rider._

"Ya know, Toothless, I think we'd both enjoy this historical moment more if you weren't sitting on me, you big bully."

Toothless grumbled and licked the rider's face.

It all started out nice with some simple joy flying with the dragons. The duo would fly to some of their favorite spots where there were lots of tall sea stacks and narrow openings to fly around and through. One of their favorite stunts was to dive down at a rocky arch, fly up the inside of one leg, and finesse things just so to lightly dance along the top of the inside of the arch before shooting down the other side. It actually took a lot of practice to perfect how to lean just right and required the rider and dragon to be locked in with each other so much that they might have been two heads of the same Zippleback.

When the other dragons would go on their first flight with their new riders, they would think back to this display of balance and precision and say to themselves, "Someday, my rider and I will do _that!_ "

 _Or maybe their spirits would be crushed as they say, "Will he just stop screaming and thrashing around back there?"_

Toothless was of the mind that it would definitely be the latter.

After the flight, Hiccup, Toothless, and Dart worked on showing the other dragons how to interact with Vikings. The little details needed to be hammered into them, like taking precautions to avoid crushing, eviscerating, or burning their riders.

Hiccup would play with the other dragons when the opportunity came up, but they hadn't learned tact when it came to smaller creatures. A tug of war would end with the first tug. A game of tag would end when the dragon would fly off somewhere Hiccup could never go or lunge right into him, knocking him down to grab the fish he was trying to keep away.

Needless to say, Toothless was not a fan.

However, whenever a dragon would immediately bring an end to playing around in a way that neither found fun at all, Hiccup would turn to Toothless or Dart. They would chase each other and wrestle and tumble around on the ground, having a grand old time. Some of the other dragons were starting to catch on to the fact that Toothless would engage with his rider in a way that was fun for both of them or the way Hiccup would do the same for Dart. For the most part, though, the dragons ended up playing and fighting with each other in a much more rough and impressive manner. It took a while to get used to it with the dragons on Berk, and Hiccup was seeing a lot more of it. Tough creatures simply liked to play rough. Mauling and biting and trampling sort of rough and that was just play to pass the time. Hiccup would need to make it clear that such behavior around Vikings unaccustomed to dragons as allies instead of enemies may send the wrong message.

All _that_ , though, had nothing to do with why there was a grumpy lump of black scales using his rider as a bed.

HIccup's main goal for the moment was to get the dragons accustomed to being around people. Just as he was trying to get all the Vikings to work up the nerve to touch a dragon, he was also trying to get dragons to touch a person. Their respect in him for the whole Red Death stunt was what he was counting on leveraging to get them comfortable with the idea of approaching him and letting him touch them. Hopefully, that confidence would transfer to the other Vikings.

Some of them really opened up. The two Timberjacks, for instance, were very friendly. _Dangerously_ friendly, according to Toothless, who had hawk eyes on their razor-sharp wings, tail, neck, and, well, everything. Once they saw that touching Hiccup led to scratches, rubs, and dragon nip that the others seemed to like so much, they were eager for their turn to the end of being pushy to get their chance. Hiccup was very excited to get to spend some time with them, though, as he had never seen a Timberjack up close before.

The Nadders, on the other hand, were quite defensive and even timid when it came to touching the rider. There was one in particular that simply would not allow any sort of contact and would hiss and snap at Hiccup if he even thought about reaching a hand towards him. The dragon promised to behave and insisted that he _needed_ a rider, but would not elaborate.

"C'mon, Bud, his teeth _barely_ touched me. See? The bleeding's already stopped. I've endured worse just from tripping over a rock. Get off me. Toothless!"

Toothless shifted a little and the weight on the rider increased. Hiccup looked to the side to see Dart standing between him and the Nadder, just watching in curiosity, unsure of what to do.

Hiccup put some drama into his voice and called out, "Daaart. Saaave meee. Heeeelp."

The little dragon took a couple uncertain steps forward, flicked some glances up at Toothless, and licked Hiccup's cheek. Toothless chortled. Hiccup deadpanned at Dart.

"Gee. Thanks."

Looking up at the Night Fury's snout hovering above him, he said, "Really, Toothless."

 _{You're being dangerous, Firefly.}_

"It's what I _do_. _You_ are being overprotective."

 _{It's what I do. Go to sleep and I will keep you warm.}_

Hiccup snorted. "Go to _sleep_?! The sun hasn't even set! C'mon, Toothless, just a little more. I've made good progress so far. Besides, what are you saying to them all by sitting on me all day? Oy!" Hiccup slid into an exaggerated Scottish accent. "Once ye git yer rider like me, here's watch'ya do. Ya sit' on him. _All_ day long. Great times. No better life for a dragon than to sit on his rider all day. The riders love it, too!"

Toothless shifted and the weight increased.

"You do realize," Hiccup squeezed out through the increasing pressure on his whole torso, "That you're going to receive my wrath. If this continues, there _will_ be consequences!"

Toothless shifted and the weight increased.

Hiccup reached up with one hand and started to scratch his dragon's knock-out spot at the base of his jawline. Naturally, Toothless jerked his head away. Hiccup anticipated this and used his other hand to scratch the side of the neck in just the right spot, pressing a finger into the soft area right behind the skull. The dragon twitched and wriggled around as Hiccup set his other hand to the same task on the other side.

Toothless started to squirm and growl as he put a paw over Hiccup's face, but some scratching along the base of one of the smaller sensor lobes sent him rolling onto his side. Immediately, Hiccup leaped up and pressed the backs of his knuckles into the soft spots along the neck, weaving around the paws that were trying to gently pry him away. The larger dragon could have knocked him away at any time, but Hiccup knew he loved this sort of treatment even if he never admitted it. Toothless frantically squirmed, whined, growled, barked, and made other strange noises under the tickling assault. The tickling transitioned into a good old-fashioned belly rub and, just out of spite, Hiccup ended by scratching the knock-out spot while the dragon was lost in rapture.

Toothless' head slid heavily to the ground and his legs went limp. Hiccup stood, looking at the dragons that were staring on with slack jaws, and leaned his hip against Toothless' shoulder.

"And let _that_ be a lesson to you if you ever feel like sitting on your-ACK! Counterattack!"

Dart jumped up and clung to Hiccup's side, nuzzling, licking, and nibbling at his ticklish spots along his ribs. The little dragon had observed the twins going at each other and had apparently picked up a thing or two on how to incapacitate a person. Hiccup heaved uncontrollably in laughter as he fell against the Night Fury's belly and clawed in futility as the Terror climbed a little higher to dig his snout into the nape of the rider's neck.

"Dart! No! Not there! Ha! You can't just- Heheheheeeeee. This is torture!"

Hiccup slid down to the ground and writhed around under the licking assault on his scalp and neck. By the time Dart finally relented, Hiccup was sweaty and sore from all the intense laughter. Toothless, who had woken up during all this, casually poked at him with a paw, clearly wanting in on the fun. Hiccup rolled over and poked at the Terror.

"You are the literal devil, Dart. The. Devil. My mouth tastes like bile!"

A lick on his cheek was the only reply before Dart got tackled by a group of Terrors. He rolled, sprang to his feet, and chased them around. Hiccup stood, looked at the Nadder that had nipped at him earlier, and pointed at him. The motion caused him to fan his wings and hiss.

"And _you_... you get off easy this time. You can thank Mr. Bossy, here, for that."

Hiccup walked over to the fire ring he had set up and fumbled around for his flint and steel. The sky had turned to a brilliant pink, providing just enough light to start a fire. The tinder and kindling was already set up from earlier today. As per usual, Toothless stood back and allowed the rider to make the fire for himself. While Hiccup had, at times past, resorted to asking his dragon to light fires for him, Toothless saw it as a sign of respect to allow his rider to light his own fire. As Hiccup had learned from his previous visit, just the fact that he _could_ make a fire in the first place was an enigmatic riddle the dragons could never puzzle out.

Only a dozen were still milling around. After lighting the tinder, Hiccup looked up at the crowd. The dragons were shuffling around, watching, uncertain, growing dimmer in the fading light, full of a curiosity that locked horns with their instinctive fear of Vikings.

However, Hiccup had a secret weapon that would help warm them up to him. From his experience with Toothless, there was no doubt that this would practically make the dragons worship the ground on which he stood. As the fire started to spread to the larger wood on top, Hiccup grabbed a sack from the saddlebag that contained a special type of grass he had taken to calling "Dragon Nip".

"Alright, guys, I got a bunch of spices, a fire, and a flat rock to cook on. Now, who wants the best fish you've ever tasted?"

* * *

 **A/N:**

"And thus we see how Hiccup got the inspiration to make his wingsuit we see in HTTYD2. If you missed it, it's in the first section during the freefall. Now, granted, the one shown in the movie would barely produce any significant lift, the center of gravity would be horribly tail-heavy so he'd just tumble, he'd have absolutely no pitch authority and terrible yaw control and-"

"Hey, author dude, shut up! You're _ruining_ it."

"Oh, hey, Toothless, you're talking again. Must be an OOC footnote. I have a name, by the way. it's Fizzlemcsch-"

"Yeah, yeah, Fizz, whatever. Stop ruining the movie with physics!"

"But It's hard _not_ to. I gotta give them credit, though; sticking with smaller dragons makes it a bit less unbelievable."

"Oh, c'mon, what's so unbelievable about a large flying dragon?"

"Well, unless it's made of stuff that's four times as light and five times as strong as any other creature on Earth, your bones would break from supporting the weight, your ligaments would tear from the torque, your blood would boil from the metabolic requirements of sustaining flight, you would need massively wide arteries to accommodate the flow of blood required to feed the tissues, leaving little room for bones and muscle and-"

"Alright, alright, I get it. Nerd! Now shut up and just write about me tackling Hiccup and licking him and flying around or something like that. And you _still_ have that golf pun to write!"

"Huh? Golf pun? Oh! Right, that comment by that one person…"

"Dr. Pickle. Get to it. Chop chop, Fizz."

"Well, I'm sure he understands. I just haven't really had a _driving_ motivation."

"Really? That was the _worst_ pun ever. You, sir, are a bogey."

"Oh! Nice one! Still, sorry about _putting_ around with that. I… uhhh, Toothless, why are you glaring at me and snarling?

"You're not getting off the hook _that_ easily."

"Easy there, nice dragon… I could write a stupid little side-story. Oh! Hiccup could go golfing and you could be his caddy! I can see it now… Hiccup would be on the green, looking out at the flag and say, 'I think this calls for a 9-iron, Bud', and then you would pull the club out with your mouth and Hiccup would complain about the slobber…

…

"Ummm… Toothless, I really don't like the way you're advancing on me."

"This is the part where you run away, screaming."

"You don't scare me. You're just a figment of my imagination and-"

"BOO!"

"NYAAAAAaaaaaaa!


	11. Strained Bonds

**Strained Bonds**

Teaser idly watched the land-striders from her perch on a sturdy branch of a large, old tree. They were all gathered in a clearing in the forest, sitting in a contorted position with interlocked legs that looked like absolute torture for their thighs and knees. What were they doing in such a painful-looking position?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing at all.

There was no running, nor flying, spitting acid, breathing fire, hiding, or chasing. All they did was sit there with their eyes closed, taking deep breaths, focusing on their breathing and boredom. Supposedly, this boringly tranquil activity was supposed to allow them all to eventually hear dragons, just like Firefly, Benevolence, and the Little Butterfly. It would help them focus on discovering a latent ability that all land-striders had, but was lost over the generations. Supposedly, many days would have to include this boring activity, judging by the precedence set by the so-called dragon whisperers.

Teaser focused on her rider, whose long, golden fur spewed out of the top of her head to sway gently in the breeze, swishing across the leaves. The dragon had decided to name her Firestarter in honor of how she saved a dragon egg by warming it with fire she tore out of a stone, back before they flew here together. It was a mystery how she could coax fire from stone. Teaser had tried to do it herself, striking rocks with her claws to make fire jump out, but to no avail.

Apparently, Firestarter thought it was very amusing and entertaining to watch. The dragon had to voice her thoughts about that. With her tail. The red mark on her rider's face has almost vanished by now.

Firestarter opened her eyes, yet again, and cast a quick glance around. Teaser heaved a sigh and when it was clear nobody else was looking, allowed the colors of her scales to shift out of focus and waved a tail in the air. The rider saw, flashed a grin, and went back to closing her eyes to resume the boring activity, but more calm and confident in knowing she was being watched. Teaser could feel the apprehension in her rider's hum fade away to contentment. Benevolence, though, was not so appreciative and chided her for losing focus on this boring breathing activity, which she ignored.

Apparently, he couldn't see that she was just concerned for her own safety.

The cause of Firestarter's concern was that the mean male land-strider who was deathly afraid of dragons was here at this boring tranquil activity, too. He was the one Firestarter fought when they first landed and found these other land-striders. After the incident, Firestarter had explained that she messed up terribly in doing that. She wanted to claim vengeance for something one group of land-striders did to another. She knew it was a bad time and place to pick a fight, but she was Firestarter after all. In the end, she was allowed to stay and should, in theory, be safe as long as neither she nor her dragon attacks anyone unprovoked.

Teaser was glad she didn't lose her rider, but she wasn't concerned for herself, of course. She had wings and the ability to disappear from sight. Even inside that cave made of trees that the land-striders were so fond of cramming into, blending into the surroundings to become invisible to their eyes in the dim light proved to be of little challenge. Flying away was definitely an option for both of them, but after Teaser and Firestarter argued about it, with Little Butterfly acting as a translator, they agreed that it would be worth staying as they had a lot to gain. So, for the sake of learning how to have a rider without being tempted to do something she would later regret, Teaser voiced her agreement to the rider's plan in her usual way. The _new_ red mark her tail left on her rider's face would vanish in a few days, too.

Finally, after an eternity of sitting and breathing and reveling in boredom, the land-striders finished and started to disperse. Teaser let herself down to the ground, stretching out stiffened muscles, while Firestarter took off at a run to join up. The little rider leaped forward and draped herself over the dragon's maw before starting to scratch along the base of the eye ridges that made Teaser lose herself in bliss.

 _{Can you hear me yet, Firestarter?}_

Teaser opened one eye and looked at her rider, who showed no sign of recognition. Toothless and his rider walked over, side by side.

The black dragon gave a rumbling chortle. _{You know it will take a long time, but it is good to see you are eager for this. Your excitement will help.}_

Firefly, who was burdened down with some bits of animal hide, gave some to Firestarter. One piece was lined with fur and would help keep her warm, but he explained it would also do a better job of keeping her safe from the cutting wind in flight. He asked if they would like to go flying together and Teaser was so excited! If Firestarter didn't already know her dragon would kill for a chance to go flying - literally - then the wiggling tail and bobbing head would have given it away. There was no explaining it, but flying with a land-strider just made it so much more fulfilling. Even though Firestarter was just a silly land-strider, having her as a companion fulfilled some desire… something meaningful that even a mate never could provide.

The flight over here with Firestarter onboard was somehow a lot more exciting than flying had ever been, even though it was smooth and level flying that would have otherwise been boring. When Teaser did some rolls, loops, and dives shortly before arriving on this island, the thrill factor shot up even higher, but it made the rider very… apprehensive. And sore. Ever since they arrived on this island, Firestarter has been coming up with excuses why she couldn't fly. Hopefully, this flight with Toothless and his rider could fix Firestarter so she would fly more often.

Firefly had a larger piece of animal hide he was explaining was used by Hookfang and his pet land-strider. He was actually wiser than Teaser gave him credit for and did not try to put it on her, but gave it to Firestarter, instructing her how to do it herself. The hide smelled of fire and ash, but if this thing would allow Firestarter to ride without depending on those terrible strands of vines to hold herself on, then it would be worth it. Hopefully, the joy of flight would return in full force, just like when they flew to this island together.

At first, Teaser felt unsettled at having the animal hide around her neck. It just felt unnatural and malignant, like some predatory animal trying to choke the life out of its hapless prey. As she rolled around on the ground, thrashing around and grinding her back against a few trees, both the black dragon and his rider chortled at each other with a knowing expression. Apparently, as necessary as this animal hide is, all dragons have the same reaction to feeling it around them for the first time.

 _This will take a lot of getting used to._

As Teaser started to calm down, Firestarter asked if she was ready to fly. The dragon signaled her confirmation in the usual way. The rider was a fast learner and even faster at dodging and ducked out of the way before getting whipped in the face by a tail. The dragon huffed her approval and decided to forgo the usual tackling and drenching her rider's face in saliva in favor of flying sooner.

The little rider climbed up, just like in times past, shifting around as she attached herself to the dragon. Teaser hopped from one foot to the other in anxious impatience and, immediately after the shifting from the rider ceased, shot off through a clearing in the trees with all haste.

She heard Firestarter scream as they soared through the air, gaining altitude at a rapid rate, but it didn't matter. Normally, she took her time in climbing as it wasn't exactly where her species excelled, but this time, she put every bit of strength into the frantic motions of her wings. The thrill of flying was back and Teaser wanted to just dive into this experience head-first! The sky seemed bluer, the water wetter, the wind a little more biting!

It was all so incredibly invigorating!

After gaining some height, she folded her wings and fell backward into a dive. The screaming from the back of her neck took on a much more shrill tone but was thankfully cut off for a moment when she opened her wings again and skimmed just over the ocean, basking in the cool mist that washed across her scales. Such dives were the most enjoyable parts of flying with a speed that cuts through the air in a way most other dragons can't.

Another frantic climb left her panting, but the excitement kept her going. Another dive, another glide at high speed over the water. Waves crashed up against a sea stack just off to the side, sending a delightfully refreshing splash over her. The cold water helped a lot as she was already starting to feel worn out and overheated.

As she started to climb again for another fun dive, Toothless managed to catch up and barked at her in frustration.

 _{Teaser, are you_ trying _to kill your rider or did you simply forget she's on your back?}_

Teaser huffed through some deep breaths in her ascent and ignored him. He and his rider had fun in the air _all the time_ , so who was _he_ to judge _her_?

Annoyed at being ignored, the black dragon came in close and snapped and snarled at her.

 _{Your rider is already freezing, sore, and miserable! You have to be considerate toward her. She is putting her full trust in you and that is no small thing. You cannot take, only. You must give something back.}_

Teaser flicked an annoyed glance over as she climbed higher. _{You worry too much, Toothless. She's fine. Also, I'm starting to like this animal hide thing on my neck. It's a lot nicer than those vines she used before.}_

With that, Teaser shot down, skimming just over the water. She rolled around, stretching out that moment where she was completely inverted before tucking in one wing to right herself again. A mist from the waves crashing against a small rocky formation washed over her as she angled to loop tightly around the obstacle. Joints popped and protested the abuse, but it felt so good! Now that she had a rider on her back again, everything that flying was all about became so much more thrilling. What was once a mild curiosity about having a rider with whom to share the appreciation of flight has turned into an itch and Teaser intended to scratch that itch until satiated.

As she leveled out again, catching a stiff headwind to gain some altitude without too much effort, Toothless came up alongside and snapped at her tail. Fury was pouring off of him. _{Firestarter won't be your rider for long if you keep this up!}_

Teaser grumbled in annoyance. _{I haven't killed her, yet. She's pretty tough for a creature so small.}_

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Firefly cast his eyes down to his dragon, but his projected thoughts were clearly aimed at her.

 _{Death is not the only thing that can separate dragon and rider.}_

Teaser locked her wings and froze for a moment. There was such a somber gravity to the emotions in that projection that she couldn't bring herself to dismiss the little rider even though that's _all_ she wanted to do. Normally, when Firefly, Toothless, or the other dragons would explain how to handle their riders, they accompanied any message with an abundance of imagery, memories, examples, and such to back up their point.

Now, though, that was all there was; a simple statement with an earnest sincerity; an integrity of will that spoke for itself and could not be ignored that stole her breath away.

Teaser continued to fly straight at her current altitude and stared at the black dragon and his rider, starting to see them as something more significant than an over-worried pair. The implication was obvious, of course. Firestarter put herself on the dragon's back. She placed her full trust in her dragon every time she approached without any shiny claws and climbed on. She had been so trusting so far, but what if that ended? What if the companionship and scratches around the eye ridges and along the belly ceased? What if all flights in the future were lonely and this heightened thrill of flying came crashing down to never rise again?

 _That would be terrible!_

Teaser craned her neck around to look at her rider but heard a yelp as her horn almost knocked her off. The dragon groaned and looked over at Toothless and Firefly. At least they were considerate enough to just look ahead instead of staring, but remained close to catch Firestarter if she fell.

 _{I really do enjoy having her on my back, Toothless. I love her reaction when I hide and pounce and lick her face. She is a lot of fun to have around.}_

Toothless gave a long-suffering groan. _{So that's it? Your rider is just some source of amusement and nothing more? A pet? Something to be used and discarded when you accidentally break her?}_

 _{Of course not!}_

 _{Then what is she to you? An equal?}_

Teaser snorted. _{Of course not. She's a land-strider. I'm a dragon. I am doing a favor just by allowing her to be around me.}_

Toothless pulled his lips up to bare his teeth, but his rider rubbed his neck and asked to handle this. Firefly looked over at Teaser. _{You make an assumption, Teaser, but I think you are wrong. You are doing no favor for your rider right now. She regrets having flown with you. She regrets that she ever trusted you. She regrets that she ever met you in the first place.}_

Teaser nipped at them, but Toothless dodged to the side. _{How dare you?! Insufferable worm!}_

Unphased, Firefly just continued looking over at the pair with a sympathetic expression. { _So far, during this flight, all you've done is terrify your rider. Listen to her, now. If I can tell, so can you. She's begging for you to land and let her off. She believes that you have betrayed her trust and don't value her life. She's begging us to pluck her off your back and save her from you. We haven't done that, yet. You may appear heartless and uncaring, but that's not really who you are inside.}_

Teaser locked her wings and closed her eyes in concentration. They were right. Firestarter was in an outright panic. She was in pain and was radiating trepidation, doubt, and fear. This should not be! She had the privilege of riding a powerful dragon that can turn invisible, fly fast, and burn through anything with acid. She had absolutely nothing to fear! Unless...

The projections from Firefly cut through her thoughts. He was radiating concern and pity for the other rider. There was a weight of disappointment in his projections, all overshadowed by acceptance and encouragement. Try as she might, Teaser couldn't feel angry with him.

 _{Your actions are the only way she can judge you, Teaser. I realize dragons aren't that good with imagination, but try to consider how your rider would feel. If you were her right now, would you want to fly with your dragon ever again? Us land-striders are quite frail compared to you dragons and we risk our very lives just by being around you. Even if she survives this without any lasting injury, what would allow her to overcome the fear of receiving this same treatment again? If she is nothing more than a pet, then this shouldn't bother you at all as you can always find another rider. I will not tell you what to do, but if the idea of losing your rider gives you grief, I think you actually have a lot more respect for her than you acknowledge; you just need to learn how to show it.}_

Teaser wanted to roar at them and tell them how foolish they were but didn't have the heart to do it. The disappointment directed at her would normally be met with defiance, but it cut through her heart in the most unwanted way. She wanted nothing more than to hear praise, but all she could hear was whimpering from the strong-spirited rider on her back. All she could sense was resignation and rejection. She would never admit it to Toothless and Firefly, but that really bothered her in a way nothing else ever has.

Her wings ached from the intense burst of energy and the fear from her rider made it feel like she just flew into a cliff. Teaser slowly turned back toward the island. The thrill of flight was gone, now that her rider was absolutely miserable.

Flying had become as boring as their stupid tranquil breathing thing.

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* * *

########

Before they even landed, Camicazi frantically tore at the buckles securing her to the saddle. Her thighs cramped and heaved in spasms, fingers were numb, an icicle replaced her face, and she could hardly breathe. To top it all off, the damn buckle must have been designed by Loki himself as it just _wouldn't_ release!

 _Of course it would be stuck. It was originally Snotlout's saddle. That miserable male couldn't even_ touch _anything without messing it up, including his own worthless life!_

Finally, as they landed with a thud, the buckle released, wrenching her wrist in the process. Camicazi was so eager to touch the ground that she just lunged to the side and sprawled out face-first into a crumpled heap on the leaves, grinding her teeth to dust as the spasms wracked her entire body. She bit back the tears, though, bending her fear into anger, her crushing sense of helplessness into headstrong defiance.

 _That devil will_ not _have the pleasure of seeing me cry!_

Eventually, the heaving in her legs abated, leaving only the feeling like a hundred red-hot iron needles were shoved underneath the skin. The toes and legs still moved, though, as she wiggled around on the ground, simply reveling in the solidity of the Earth.

She felt Hiccup pressing his hands along her back and legs, inspecting the damage as he mumbled to her.

"Sorry, Cami. I should have seen the signs. I never would have _imagined_ this would happen. I mean, sure, all dragons so far have had to learn to be gentle with us riders, but-"

"If you're sorry, you can prove it by killing that _thing_." Camicazi shrieked.

Hiccup showed no sign of having heard her as he removed her flight harness. In a lilting, sing-song voice, he said, "Don't mind me. I'm just taking advantage of the shock you're in so I can touch you without asking for permission."

He was just kidding, of course. It was clear that he was only checking on her health. Besides, he valued his life. Judging by the pause of his fingers and the blazing inferno erupting under them, along the insides of her legs, the knotting of the muscles must have been so bad it could be felt through all the layers of soaked fur and leather. Camicazi gave out a long-winded groan as her friend started to work the knots out. She figured that if she was a male, she would be balling her eyes out and wailing loudly by now.

"Really, Hic, I want to be alone. Just chop off that devil's head before you go."

"I'll go, Cami. I promise I will, but this is important. I speak from a lot of experience when I tell you that if you don't get these knots worked out before you cool down and your muscles stiffen even more-"

Camicazi gasped in pain at a twinge in her leg and stifled the sob that threatened to escape.

"Sorry," the boy continued, "But as bad as it is now, it will be a thousand times worse in a while if I don't do this."

Off to the side, Teaser was lying in the leaves, snout almost touching her head. Camicazi craned her neck up to see that the dragon was sprawled out and seemed to also be in a bit of discomfort from having flown so hard. Her stuttering breathing was deep and labored as the hot air washed over Camicazi's face.

"And you, too!" She shouted at her dragon. "Go away! I don't want to see you ever again!"

Camicazi glared as the Changewing's scales shifted in color to blend in with the trees behind her to disappear from sight. She groaned and planted her face into the leaves.

Hiccup chuckled. "Like rider, like dragon."

"Fucking bitch."

"Gee!" He said with forced enthusiasm. "What a wonderful day! Isn't it? I think we should talk about how wonderful this day is!"

"You still haven't left, yet, nor have you given Teaser the painful death she- OW!" Camicazi gasped at a bolt of lightning coursing through her leg and up her spine. "You did that on purpose!"

"Of course." Hiccup jibbed. " _Everything_ I do is on purpose because I _never_ make mistakes. If that was a mistake, though, then I would surely apologize."

"Toothless, eat him! Eat him now!"

Nothing happened for a long, drawn-out moment aside from another bolt of lightning.

"Fucker."

Toothless snarled. Camicazi curled up on herself, but that only sent a white-hot inferno ripping through her body.

"Drama, drama, drama!" Hiccup grumbled as he gave a reproving glare at his dragon, who had the decency to look a little apologetic. "Would it make you feel any better to know your dragon is in pain, too, Cami? She says her pectoralis is throbbing; that's why she's got her wings splayed out like that. She must have been trying _really_ hard to show off."

A snort from the aforementioned dragon kicked up a cloud of leaves.

"Actually, yes, that _does_ make me feel better. I really _do_ feel pleasure in knowing Teaser is suffering."

 _I hope she can tell I mean that!_

"Alright," Hiccup said as he shifted his knees forward along the ground, "Legs are good enough for now. Your back needs some attention, too. Really, though, I swear I never would have imagined in all my life that this would happen so soon and so severely. Remind me to tell you the story about the time Toothless almost killed Astrid when we, uh, took her for her first flight."

A huff came from nearby, presumably from said dragon.

"Suffice to say," He continued, "She was walking funny the entire next day."

Hiccup worked on taking off Camicazi's outer coat and her back and sides convulsed, but she grit her teeth and twisted out. It was dripping wet and cold, anyway. Hiccup started to press his knuckles into her back.

Between gasps, Camicazi said, "I'm totally gonna tell Astrid that you can't keep your hands off me, boy."

"Ha! I think that would only work to my advantage. Girls like fighting over guys and Vikings like fighting in general. I think you would only push her even farther away from you and closer to me."

"If that's even possible."

"Yeah..."

"She still pissed about Stormfly?"

Hiccup paused for a moment. "Ya. Still. Astrid is Astrid. Stormfly is fine, though."

Camicazi Snorted. "Nadder's own fault for shoving that bastard out of the way. I had a clear shot!"

"I'm not going to complain that I didn't have to watch _any_ of my friends die that day."

"But Grub-"

"Is a good man!" Hiccup cut her off. "I don't know about the politics between the Greenbellies and Burglars and I couldn't care less. Grub is staying for the remainder of this training and that's final." Softer, he said, "And I really hope you do, too."

An uneasy silence settled down as Hiccup continued to work along Camicazi's lower back. As he soothed out the knots, the slicked fur inner jacket actually provided a slippery surface for him to press a balled up fist into the back and slide it up and down. Pain flared up into a burning fire at first, but eventually dissipated. By now, her breathing had settled down significantly and she almost felt relaxed.

 _If it weren't for that malignant, color-shifting devil sitting right there..._

Eventually, he finished, stood up, and spread a blanket in front of her. "Cami, If you can haul yourself onto the blanket, Teaser wants to lay on top of you to keep you warm. This is as good a spot as any to relax and let your body get over the shock. Besides, I think you two just need some alone time together."

"You're gonna leave me alone with this sadistic bitch?!"

Hiccup blinked in surprise. "She's not gonna hurt you. She _likes_ you!"

"Coulda fooled me."

"She wants to apologize. She feels terrible about what she did to you. She's begging for a second chance."

Teaser hissed and nipped at Hiccup. Toothless snapped back and curled a tail around his rider.

Hiccup rolled his eyes. "Even if she won't admit it, she really does want to make amends."

Camicazi stared at the leaves on the ground, refusing to make eye contact with her dragon or Hiccup. "I want to be left alone."

"You don't sound too convincing."

No response.

Hiccup sighed. "Tell you what. You give me the word, and I'll send Teaser off right now. If she refuses to leave, Toothless, Hookfang, Barf and Belch, and Grump will all gang up and force her off the island if that's what it'll take." Teaser whined. "If you want to go home right now, Toothless and I will fly you there. If you want to stay for the rest of training and try to find a new dragon, you're welcome to it."

Camicazi stared at her dragon thoughtfully. Teaser pressed her snout to the ground and puffed a cloud of leaves at Camicazi.

"What about the rule of no more than two per tribe? You hardly kept the wolves at bay by pointing out I'm not here to become a rider as I already am one. If I suddenly don't have a dragon, I would-"

"You would stay!" Hiccup cut in resolutely "The Bog-Burglars is one of two tribes that did _not_ join the collective assault against my home a month ago. That deserves recognition and this would be just that. If they don't like it then too bad for them. They can complain about it to Toothless." Said dragon pushed his teeth out and licked his lips.

Camicazi stared thoughtfully at Hiccup. "You really would do that for me?"

"Without hesitation. We either send Teaser off, send you off, or you two try to work things out. Now, what is your decision?"

Camicazi looked over at her dragon, who inched her head closer. The rider slowly and agonizingly crawled forward onto the blanket, _trying_ to suppress her pained gasps.

"Leave us."

Hiccup's relieved face made it clear he was hoping to hear just that. The sound of shuffling leaves signaled him and his dragon walking away as a familiar weight settled onto Camicazi. She just cradled her head in her arms, staring at the leaves, and let out a long exhale. The dragon was mainly silent with an occasional huff or chirp, accompanied by a poke from the snout. Camicazi allowed the awkward silence to continue until the prodding became too much to handle.

"Tease, if you decide that killing me is a good idea, then I only ask you to make it quick and painless. This was neither, though you didn't quite kill me... this time."

A long silence followed. Camicazi carefully stretched one arm out, using the palm of the other hand to massage the inside of her forearm that was sore from gripping the handles on the saddle so hard. At first, the lightest touch felt like glowing embers on her skin, but eventually, a bit more pressure became tolerable. It seemed to help. During the flight, there were a few times a clicking sound came from her arms and wrists. Suffice to say, each and every muscle and tendon responsible for pulling and squeezing was a crumpled mess, overworked before the flight of terror was even halfway done.

After doing whatever could be done for the arms, Camicazi tried to roll over, but the weight of the dragon was too much. As if sensing what she wanted, Teaser rose up on her legs and the girl flopped over onto her back with a loud groan. Slowly, very slowly, she carefully stretched out her legs. However, before she was able to get them fully flat on the ground, the dragon shifted and started to settle back down on top of her. Camicazi cried out in pain as this stretched her legs too quickly for how stiff they had become, causing the dragon to instantly jump up and give out some sort of warbling croon that might have been a sign of concern or sympathy. After a while, she finally got her legs out flat.

"Alright. You can sit on me again, your royal highness tormentor."

The dragon gave out a huff as she settled down again, cradling the rider's head and shoulders between her forelegs. Camicazi refused to bask in the surprisingly great sense of comfort and security that brought and instead opted to just lay there, arms outstretched over her head, staring up at the sun filtering through the webbing of branches. She realized she hasn't done that for quite a while, just lay on the ground and enjoy the scenery, and decided to absorb the tranquility of the branches gently swaying in the wind.

Forever.

It was so idyllic.

Until a snout prodded her insistently.

Camicazi sighed. "You know you don't _have_ to fly with me, girl. If you want to show off, I'll watch from the ground." Shifting her voice into a higher, mocking tone, she said, "Yes, dear, mommy sees you. Yes, very impressive. Mommy is so very impressed at the things you are doing."

Teaser, who was staring down at her, lowered her snout and a tongue came out. Camicazi scooped a bunch of leaves in her hand and shoved them into the dragon's mouth. It hurt to curl her fingers even a little bit, but it was worth it to see the dragon rear back and gag on the leaves, dirt, and twigs. She glared at the girl, who glared right back with indignation.

"Really?! You stuck up sack of vanity! You almost _killed_ me and _now_ you have the balls to try to lick me? Do you _really_ enjoy watching me suffer _that_ much? We could make it a daily routine _just_ for you. I live to suffer for your entertainment, apparently."

Teaser huffed and lowered her head down to rest on top of an outstretched leg, looking ahead, occasionally flicking a glance at the rider. Camicazi sighed.

 _Maybe I'm being too hard on her. She's a big dragon and doesn't know what it's like to be so helpless up in the air. Maybe licking is her way of apologizing._

"Alright, Tease, I suppose I can accept some of the blame, too. You had the saddle, I had the harness, the straps would have held me and I didn't need to panic like that." Camicazi sighed. "But _dammit_ , girl, you scared me to _death_ up there. I thought you were having a seizure and I would get crushed between you and a rock or something. Do you know how absolutely _terrifying_ it is to be at the complete mercy of another who doesn't appear to be in control of themselves?"

The dragon raised her head and angled her snout down. A tongue slipped out of her maw. Camicazi glared at the dragon and shuffled her arm around in the thick carpet of leaves and the tongue retreated.

"Yeah, I know, I know. I should trust you more. I should know better than to fear you _killing_ me or anything."

The dragon curled her lips back to bare her teeth. Camicazi gave a smug smile.

"I think I shall never get used to the idea that you can understand what I'm saying. You know what I mean, though. Back on that ship, or even that island we ended up on when I warmed up that egg, I was dead meat. I figured if you didn't harm me then, you won't in the future as long as I don't give you a reason to. Apparently, the thrill of seeing me in pain is plenty of reason to preserve me. By the way, the offer to bite my head off and spare me from your torture still stands."

Camicazi lifted her head off the ground, angling it up as much as possible from her position. Teaser shot her snout down and gave a quick lick to the rider's forehead, retreating just in time to avoid the cloud of leaves that erupted from the ground. Camicazi spluttered as some fell onto her face and she glared at the dragon.

"Long and slow torture it is, then. How about this..."

Camicazi rotated her arm so it was stretched out in front of her, pointing straight up, fingers slightly curled in the one and only position that didn't hurt... as much.

"You work on seeing me as more than just your own personal torture doll and I'll try to see you as a friend. And... _if_ we ever go flying together again…"

Teaser whined. Camicazi let out a puff of air.

"Ok, aside from the terror and almost dying and feeling like my entire body is covered in acid and coals afterward, flying is pretty damn fun. So next time we go flying, it will be slow and _boring_ so I can learn how to be a good rider."

Teaser bobbed her head down to nuzzle the outstretched hand, but Camicazi pulled it back. The dragon reared up in surprise.

"I _mean_ it, girl. If I'm getting on your back, we are going to fly _very_ slow. It will be very boring, smooth, and predictable. I want to see you _suffer_ from boredom up in the air. That is my requirement if I'm to ever fly with you again. Do we have a deal?"

Teaser went to lick her rider's hand, but Camicazi pulled it away again.

"And no licking my face _ever_ again." Teaser whined. "Or whipping me with your tail." The whining intensified. "Or hiding and then…" Camicazi stopped at the pleading look in her dragon's eyes. "Fine, you can still do that, but you will be _gentle_. Do we have a deal?"

Teaser licked at the rider's outstretched hand before playfully gnawing on her arm, gently enough that it tickled and, actually, felt kinda good. Camicazi chuckled.

"Good. Now call Hiccup over. Tell him he can carry me back bridal-style on his dragon's back as I sure as Hel ain't straddling anything today. Hopefully, Astrid will see us and kick him in the nuts."

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* * *

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Camicazi got exactly what she wanted... almost.

 _Nothing to do today except loaf around, watching the others scrape and tan leather and try to work up the nerve to touch a dragon... check._

 _Carried bridal-style back to the longhouse... check._

 _On a dragon's back... check._

 _Astrid present to be enraged by any apparent display of tenderness by Hiccup... check._

Camicazi glared up at the chin of the rider carrying her. He had one arm under her knees and another supporting her back as his dragon fluttered to a feathery soft landing just outside the longhouse. A warm smile beamed down at her.

"I _hate_ you, Fishlegs. I hate you _so_ much."

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Thanks for reading. Also, thank you JR 0 for beta reading my stuff.

VigoGrimborne - Ya, the Grenbellies were all herdsmen and craftsmen. I didn't wanna go into their backstory so I could stay focused on the dragon training, but I imagined a central village on their island with various farmsteads scattered around (instead of Berk's layout where everyone is in the village and the rest of the island is just forest and that one place Toothless landed when he was shot down). Perhaps, someday, I'll write a little sequel about Bogs and Greenbellies after this dragon training is done.


	12. One Small Step for a Viking

**One Small Step for a Viking**

"Alright, I'm ready. I... I'll do it."

Hauk nervously ran his fingers through his brown, shoulder-length hair. His matching eyes twitched between the Night Fury and Rumblehorn milling around behind the riders, who recently landed in the clearing outside the longhouses. Once grounded, both dragons were eager to sniff and poke at each other, which devolved into some playful fighting.

Hauk stared at Hiccup, taking a gulp of air to steel himself for what he was going to do. It was simple, in theory. Touch a dragon.

 _Any fool could do it, right?_

 _Right?_

Almost everyone else had by now. Being the only tribe in the Barbaric Archipelago without any dragon riders would be terrible, especially with the Bog-Burglars getting three. Tomorrow, this place will be swarming with the beasts that would be looking for riders, so there's no better time to man up than just in the nick of time.

Hiccup blinked at the realization that he was being addressed and slowly spun around, picking the older teen out from the loose scattering in the open area outside the longhouse. When he realized what, exactly, was going on, a smile formed on his face.

"You sure, Hauk? You didn't seem too happy yesterday when I threatened to sic Dart on you if you hold out much longer."

"The Terror?" Hauk scoffed, allowing his voice to slip back into its usual baritone joviality. "Can ya' blame me? They're the worst sort of dragons _ever_! The forest doesn't slow 'em down at all. Even with large shields and nets, they're the trickiest to deal with. D'ya know how many scars I have from-"

"Hauk," Hiccup chirped up, cutting off the other Viking, "I know, I know. Grub told me all about that last raid."

Hauk scowled, disappointment sliding into his voice. "I wasn't there."

"Oh?"

"Hunting trip."

"... Oh."

"Anyway," Hauk said, brushing his shoulder in irritation, "Terrors suck! It's a good thing you keep yours away from me. Take that as you will."

"You do realize," Hiccup threw out with a bored expression, "that killing dragons isn't really a thing around here, right? And dragons attacking Vikings won't happen, either."

"I know!" Hauk snapped. He stiffened as the Night Fury locked eyes on him. The Rumblehorn took that opportunity to knock the smaller dragon on its back and tumbled it around.

Hauk deflated and said in a softer voice, "I know. I'm trying, it's just… hard. The dragons orphaned me in a single raid and, well, you've heard it all."

Hiccup slowly nodded. Hauk cast a glance at the Night Fury, which was trying to dance around the larger Rumblehorn and over its tail to jump onto its back.

"I've fought dragons before, but to just walk up to one and touch it and say, 'hey, let's be friends and whatnot'..." Hauk shrugged. "I _need_ to make this happen, Hiccup, so I figured, maybe if I try it with a dragon that isn't as scary – like yours – then I–"

A snort caught his attention. The black dragon cast a glare his way, but the distraction cost its footing as the Rumblehorn shoved against the base of its neck, overturning the thing. The Night Fury instantly rolled over and sprang to its feet, letting out a little snarl while walking past the larger dragon. Hauk was starting to learn that this was normal play. This pair especially seemed to enjoy roughing each other up, so it would not be surprising at all to learn that all that snarling could have been their way of saying, "Hello, how are you on this fine morning, good sir? Oh, marvelous! May I have the honor of your company for a spot of tea?"

Hauk nervously wrung his fingers, taking an unconscious step back from the dragon that was pressing its head against the rider. "Although, I'll admit it does look quite a bit scarier up close."

Hiccup rolled his eyes. The dragon mimicked his expression.

"That is so creepy," Hauk whispered.

"You know his name, Hauk. You also remember the first rule of interacting with dragons."

"Ummm, was that the one about not making eye contact when you have a weapon or a bladed tool out."

"No, that was rule number two."

"Oh, right, never sneak up on a dragon and grab its tail."

Hiccup deadpanned at the larger Viking. His dragon did likewise. Hauk squinted at the dragon, which stuck out its tongue in response.

"I'll take that as a 'No'?"

"That leaves only one left," Hiccup said in a bored voice.

"Right, then, that would be to treat dragons as you yourself would like to be treated."

"Correct" Hiccup drawled out with obtusely fake enthusiasm, emphasizing and dragging out the 'R'. He gave a sarcastic slow clap and rolled eyes to match. "And how would you fancy being referred to as _it_ instead of something more personable... like your name?"

"Ah, I see your point. Sorry about that."

"You're looking at me, Hauk. Shouldn't you be apologizing to Toothless?"

"Uhhhh..."

Hauk's eyes flicked over to the dragon. His fingers turned into a writhing mass of worms.

"Sorry... Toothless?"

Hiccup chuckled despite himself. "Most eloquently spoken, Hauk Silver-Tongue. Toothless demands others respect me and I'm learning to require the same for him, too. He's used to it, though. You're not the only tough nut we've worked on cracking. Cute little puppy impression be damned, there's something about him that can set some people on edge."

"I'm guessing the claws and sharp teeth might have something to do with that."

Hiccup waved a dismissive hand as he tried to keep a straight face. "Nah."

The dragon took a small step forward, causing Hauk to jump back with a less than dignified yelp.

"Wha... what's it doing? Err, he, I mean, umm, Toothless."

"You said you wanted to touch a dragon. Toothless is a dragon. This isn't metallurgy science, here. C'mon, all the dragons coming over here tomorrow are gonna stay for the rest of the class, so you may as well do it now before you're surrounded by 'em."

"Right... yeah... just do it. Touch a dragon, they said. It would be easy, they said."

Hauk sucked in a deep breath of air and squared his shoulders. His stance slackened a little as the dragon took another small step forward.

 _Too close!_

Hauk slid back a little. Hiccup grinned.

"It's kinda hard to touch him from that far away. Maybe if you got a little closer?"

Hauk glowered as he wrapped the fingers of his right hand around his left fist, focusing on crushing it into dust. "Your aptitude for stating the obvious leaves me slack-jawed in absolute wonder and awe."

"C'mon," Hiccup chided in a humored voice. "Don't make me resort to calling you chicken. Your _arm_ is bigger than me and I roll around on the ground with Toothless."

"Ok ok, I'll admit up close it– no, he– he looks really... dangerous. How do you, uh, deal with the danger?"

"Danger?" Hiccup stepped in front of his dragon and spun around to look at it. Him. Hauk visibly relaxed at the barrier the boy's slight body provided.

"Danger, danger, danger," Hiccup softly mumbled as if trying to puzzle through something. "Toothless, do you have any danger we should know about?"

He put his hands in the dragon's mouth, forcing it open. The dragon tilted its head from side to side.

"Nope!" Hiccup declared as he stuck his head between its rows of teeth. "Don't see any danger _here_. I mean, sure, he has teeth, but I know he won't bite. How about..."

Hiccup pulled his head out and gave a gentle shove against the side of the dragon's neck, causing the beast to roll over, then crouched down as he picked up one of the front paws, experimentally running his thumb across one of the claws.

"Nope," he said, standing up and brushing his hands together. "I mean, yeah, he has sharp claws, but he's not going to try to maul you or anything."

Hiccup turned to look at Hauk, who was softly chuckling, nervously.

"Aha!" Hiccup snapped his fingers. "I know what you mean by _danger_. You're worried about _me_." Holding a hand up in oath, he said, "I swear on my life that I will not attack you. There, does that help ease your concerns?"

Hauk deadpanned at the rider but gasped when he suddenly noticed the dragon on its feet, a mere two paces away. He swallowed hard and fought against himself to hold his ground. The broad dagger, sheathed against his back, just above his hip, came to mind. It was a sturdy piece of steel that had one purpose, which was to withstand the substantial force he could exert on it to cut through any living tissues. Well, two; it was pretty handy for making kindling.

"Should I, ummm, get rid of my weapon?" Hauk asked.

"Pah!" Hiccup waved it off. "That would hardly be fair, don't you think? Toothless can't remove all his claws and teeth, so would it be fair to demand that you completely disarm yourself? Just treat him like another Viking. Pretty much everyone carries a weapon for self-defense, but we can also tell when someone's out to cause trouble. He's smart and can recognize an aggressive move. He knows where your weapon is mounted and that the handle is on your right, so he'll know if you make a move for it. Just don't and we'll all be good."

Hiccup reached over and snagged one of Hauk's massive fingers in his own little hand. The moment Hauk realized his hand was being guided to the dragon's snout, as he had seen the rider do with other Vikings, he jerked it back.

"C'mon, Hauk," Hiccup chided. "You're _so_ close. Be reasonable. Did he attack me? Or Gretta, or Gerd, or Thuggory, or Vigdis, or Arnvid, or-"

"I get it," Hauk impatiently cut in, "and to your point, the dragon has been as harmless as a lamb."

Hiccup smiled. "Good. Then you _know_ that you can trust him. Just act on that knowledge. Just do it and it's done!"

"Ya, do it and it's done."

Hauk sucked in a deep breath, his mantra established. With a shaking hand, he slowly reached for the dragon, whose clawed paws were motionless on the carpet of leaves. By now Hauk was accustomed to seeing the dragon's mouth void of visible teeth, but he knew they could be extended in the blink of an eye. He knew the widened pupils were a sign of nonaggression, but he's seen how quickly they could turn to slivers when the dragon gets aggressive.

"Just do it and it's done. Do it and it's done. Do it and it's done. Do it and it's-"

With eyes closed tight, Hauk lunged forward, roughly landing both hands on the dragon's snout.

"Done!"

His breath left him and he sucked in a deep, shaky lungful. Hesitantly, he opened one eye, then the other. The dragon just stood there, staring into his eyes. Those green orbs seemed to grow a little softer in appearance. He could feel it. It was just like what Hiccup had described, but so much... more... more... everything!

"This... is so... cooool!"

That connection to the dragon was there! It wasn't like reading the dragon's mind, but there was a definitive perception of his feelings. Hauk could tell that Toothless was growing annoyed by how much this was dragged out. Still, Hauk could tell the dragon was bending himself wholly to make this work for his rider's sake and so was happy that this bridge has been crossed. In a single moment of this connection, Hauk felt all fear and foreboding vanish, replaced by awe and the sense of accomplishment.

"So," Hiccup said through a wide grin, "What do you think about Toothless?"

"He's... he's..." Hauk breathed in wonder and adoration. "HAHAHAHAHAAAAAIIIIiiiiiii did it!"

Hauk pulled back and pumped a fist in the air, laughing and cheering at himself like a little child on Snoggletog. He skipped around the dragon, shouting "I did it! I touched the dragon!"

Toothless started to prance from paw to paw, infected by the Viking's joy. Hauk felt around the dragon's snout, feeling the smooth scales, the soft inside of his nostrils, the hot breath with every exhale, the warm moisture of the–

"Gah!"

Once his brain finally realized that the dragon's mouth was clamped down over his fingers, he jerked his hand back. After the initial shock of fear, though, he started to giggle again.

"And now you see why I call him Toothless," Hiccup said.

"This is... this..." Hauk stuttered, trying to find his tongue in all his giggling. "Thank you, Toothless!"

Without any warning, he lunged forward, wrapping his massive arms around Toothless' neck. The dragon had to dance on his hind legs to keep his balance as he was lifted so that his front paws dangled off the ground. Hauk suddenly realized what exactly he just did. He never meant to hug a dragon. The thought of all those large teeth right next his neck and the sharp claws skidding against his boot wasn't as scary as his mind was telling him it should have been. Still, he jumped away with a squeal, causing Toothless to land his paws heavily on the ground.

"I-I-I... uhhh, I dunno what came over me, there. Sorry, uhhhhh… Hey, Toothless, wanna play?"

Hiccup chuckled. "Really, Hauk? You were scared to touch him a moment ago."

Hauk stared at the Night Fury's eyes in thought. He knew he could trust the dragon. Toothless was dead-set on making sure his rider succeeded in bringing Vikings and dragons together. Besides, in that moment of contact, Hauk developed a suspicion that the Night Fury really wanted to play with someone and was wondering what it would be like to wrestle with such a large Viking. Hauk always enjoyed a good old-fashioned tussle with friends at home and there was something relaxing about using his massive frame to manhandle the bulls and yaks.

"Well, ya know," Hauk said, "he's proven he can be trustworthy. And if he hasn't attacked me yet, I don't think he will in the future. Besides, he looks like he really wants to play and… Oh, can I play with your dragon, Hiccup? Please?"

The Night Fury stared at Hauk intently for a moment before his lips curled and a large, toothless smile split his face. It felt like a very awkward moment until Toothless suddenly lunged forward. Hauk grabbed the dragon's neck and the two tumbled over the ground, separating after a roll and coming to a crouch. Toothless wiggled his tail slowly above his head for a moment before slapping it against the ground behind him and bolting at the Viking with his tongue hanging out in mirthful glee.

Hauk grinned as the dragon leaped into the air.

 _A dragon is playing with me! I'm_ actually _playing with a dragon!_

"This is _so_ _cool_!"

########

* * *

########

Wind thrashed through Hiccup's hair as he and his dragon tore through the open sky. To his right rode his father, proud and powerful on Skullcrusher's back. Snotlout on Hookfang and the ever-timid Fishlegs on Meatlug flew behind. On the other side, Astrid gave Hiccup an encouraging smile. The twins riding Barf and Belch each wore a feral grin as they stared ahead. Hundreds of dragons with riders surrounded them as they flew steadily onward.

Ahead, The enemy started to come into focus. Hiccup looked over at his father.

"Dad, _please_! Let me talk to them. Nobody wins a war, we just end up with those who lost and those who lost _even more_. Let me try once more."

Stoick rolled his eyes and waved him off dismissively. Hiccup sighed. Fighting would seem to be inevitable. Swords, axes, and spearheads glinted in the sunlight. Some riders readied bolas and grappling hooks to strike out at the enemy.

The two opposing fronts of dragons and riders clashed violently in a maelstrom of fire, steel, pain, and death. Roars, battle cries, and shrieks assaulted the ears. Uncountable dragons and Vikings crashed against each other like waves against a cliff. Toothless gave his own roar as he angled in to tackle a Monstrous Nightmare from the sky.

However, Hiccup flicked his ankle to steer the dragon down. A snarl was his retort as Toothless tried to angle himself back up.

"NO!" Hiccup shouted at his dragon, shifting the tailfin to angle off to the side of the fray. "We can't just go on like this. We need to find their leader and talk some sense into him. We need to use diplomacy here if we-"

Hiccup grunted from a particularly violent change in direction. Air was forced from his lungs as his dragon bucked and kicked, fighting the directions of his rider, trying to correct his course to get back into the fight. Hiccup pressed his heel down, folding in the tailfin completely. The duo tilted to the side and started to plummet, but he extended the fin after a moment. Anger and resentment were pouring off the dragon as he roared his fury at his rider.

 _{We must fight, Firefly! There is no other way. Do not try to avoid your fate.}_

Hiccup slapped one of the Night Fury's sensor lobes in irritation.

"I _spit_ on fate! Look, over there, that must be their leader. Take us in close, Bud."

The dragon refused to comply and, instead, angled toward a Zippleback. His claws dug into one of the dragon's necks and its pained shrieks tore at Hiccup's ears and heart. He folded the tailfin in again and Toothless snarled at the lack of control.

"C'mon, Bud. We can't afford to fight like this. You gotta let me do it my way!"

The dragon gave no response save to fold his wings. They dove down and landed hard on the snow-packed glacier below. Hiccup tore himself out of the saddle, jumped off, and rounded on his dragon. Red splatters and crumpled bodies started to dot the white snow as dragons and Vikings fell like hail.

Hiccup couldn't figure out why Toothless was acting like this. The dragon has always insisted that trust in his rider was his greatest asset. Whether learning to fly with the prosthetic tailfin for the first time, fighting the Red Death, interacting with Vikings – anything – Toothless would freely voice his objections in his own special way but would end up going along with his rider so long as he knew he was respected. They always worked out their differences and agreed to meet in the middle. This tunnel-vision behavior in fighting his rider struck Hiccup as very uncharacteristic of his dragon.

"What is _wrong_ with you, Toothless?! You need to _trust_ me. Now, let's get back up there and- GAH!"

He gasped as Toothless clamped down hard on his arm. The teeth were not extended, but the force of it all hurt.

"Toothless! Stop!"

Hiccup drove his forehead hard into the dragon's nose. Both reeled back in pain from the impact. Hiccup rubbed his forehead for a moment, but when he looked up, his jaw dropped.

A shapeless form, shrouded in a black mist, stood by Toothless. All Hiccup could do was stare dumbly and point in shock. Eventually, he found his voice.

"Ta… Ta… Ta… Toothless, look out! It's right behind you!"

The dragon didn't move, nor did the strange interloper. In fact, Toothless showed no sign of recognition as he simply stood there, staring off into infinity. Once again, Hiccup couldn't find his tongue. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. From the dark mist, laughter drifted out – bold, cruel, and malignant. Hiccup tried to speak but was robbed of breath.

"You think you can win?" the dark form taunted in a cynical, guttural, unearthly voice. "You think you can _avoid_ your calling, boy? You can never run from yourself. _You_ did this. _You_ brought them together. _You_ gave them to each other and now they are killing each other."

"No." Hiccup weakly gasped out, tears brimming in his eyes. "Please... No... I didn't... You can't... Please..."

"You have only yourself to blame!" The voice continued in righteous indignation. "You alone and nobody else. It was you who gave them the dragons. You know that if left to themselves, dragons live their own lives with minimal interactions. Only Man can organize wars so grand. Dragons make for fine weapons, do they not? You should be _very_ pleased with your progress."

A wailing screech drew Hiccup's attention upward for an instant before a Nadder crumpled to the ground. Dragon and rider were impaled together on a spear and flew apart on impact in a crimson spray.

Hiccup's knees refused to support his weight and he came crashing down to the hardened snow. "No... Please... I didn't... Please stop the fighting. _Please!_ "

Again, that mocking, condescending laughter. "And why should I?"

"I didn't know! I swear if I had _any_ idea that I would have caused so much death and suffering... It's not my fault! The world is what it is, and so I acted. I-"

"No!" the cruel voice cut him off. "You acted, and so the world is what it is. You. Did. This."

The dark form suddenly vanished in an explosion of sound. Hiccup crumpled backward from the force and couldn't hear anything save the painful ringing in his ears. He slowly stood up on shaky legs as his dragon stared at him through vacant eyes, pupils narrowed to slender slits. The rider cast a pleading look.

"Toothless? You don't... believe that, do you? I would never-"

His breath caught in his throat as Toothless lowered his stance and started to growl threateningly. The dragon's pupils constricted into narrow, vertical slits. Hiccup stumbled backward.

"Wha- what are you doing there, Bud?"

Toothless took a menacing step forward. Hiccup took an uncertain step back. The ringing in his ears started to fade, replaced by the steady beat of a war drum.

"Calm down there, Bud. What's gotten under your skin?" Hiccup flicked a quick glance over his shoulder. Nope, nothing. Toothless was definitely advancing on his own rider. Hiccup's heart rate spiked. "Alright, if you're trying to scare me, you win, Bud. I am _very_ scared, now."

His eyes were torn upward by the twin screams of a Zippleback. It slammed into the icy surface with a sickening crunch that made Hiccup wince. Toothless didn't even notice as he stared with an almost demonic look.

"Alright, Bud, just take it easy. We'll do it your way. You win, alright? I'll cooperate if you just calm down. We'll go... kill some people... together."

Hiccup stumbled and fell backward, but caught himself. When he looked up again, he noticed green gas building up in the dragon's mouth.

"Toothless, what are you doing?"

The dragon closed his mouth and puffed out his cheeks. The scream of a Night Fury on a fire run sounded out as air whirled around inside.

"Bud? Can't we talk about this?"

The dragon reared his head back. Hiccup willed his legs to move, to run away, to find cover, but his feet were stuck. The crumpled heap of a Monstrous Nightmare, dead with a spear through its slackened jaw, lay just off to the side in a pool of blood. It would make for good cover, but his legs refused to move.

Hiccup cried out in desperation, "Toothless? Stop! _Please!_ STOP!"

His ears heard a faint pop. His eyes saw an indigo bolt of death and destruction erupt from the dragon's mouth. His mind, though, was a stubborn thing. Time seemed to slow down as he wrestled with his senses, refusing to process the input. Toothless would never hurt him; that much was certain. Therefore, this _cannot_ be Toothless; it _must_ be some other dragon.

 _Toothless would surely come and save me since I cannot save myself. He must!_

Hiccup closed his eyes and held out his hands in front of him.

" _TOOTHLESS!_ "

A headache pulsed through his head. His ears rang and his temples throbbed. The chilled air seemed to whirl around, sucking the breath from his body. He blinked his eyes open in a frenzy as he gasped for air, his mind frantically scrambling to come to terms with what just happened. He knew his dragon saved him because dead people don't wake up. Toothless attacked, but it wasn't Toothless. Hiccup saw the fireball heading right for him, so somebody saved him and took him here.

 _But where is_ here _, anyway?_

The wooden floor was cold against his cheek. As his vision started to clear, he could see a fire flickering nearby. Rays of sunlight weakly filtered in through gaps between the wooden slabs of the floor.

 _No, that can't be the floor. It must be a wall. People lay on floors, not walls._

"Toothless?" Hiccup croaked out in a whisper, trying to force some volume through his parched and stuffed up throat. "Bud?"

Finally, he saw the dragon several feet away, slowly rolling to his feet, whining and snarling. Hiccup was startled to attention by the gasping wails of a girl. Casting about, he saw Tofa curled up in the fetal position and groaned as realization hit him. He wished he could count the number of such nightmares in the past couple months on his fingers. This, though, was the first time another dragon whisperer was nearby. Tofa must have picked up the dream through Toothless. Though only nine years old, she was by far the most sensitive dragon whisperer and was using the Night Fury as a pillow.

Hiccup grit his teeth, trying to push the images out of his mind as he crawled over to place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright, Tofa. Just a dream. See? I'm right here. Toothless is right over there. None of that really happened. Just a stupid dream."

Toothless rolled over to all fours, frantically switching between snarling on the inhales and whining on the exhales. This was not the first time he has attacked and killed his own rider in a dream and it always put him in a sort of emotional shock. Dreams were normally a foreign concept to a dragon. Even more than a human, to them, waking from a dream was foreign, disorienting, and disturbing.

Hiccup gasped as he was overcome with a constricting terror at the approaching form looming over him and he stumbled backward, falling to the ground. He instantly realized how foolish it was to fear his dragon and scolded himself for reacting that way. Toothless' expression instantly softened and he groaned as he flopped over to his back. Hiccup crawled forward and draped himself over the dragon's neck. He could feel regret and annoyance from the dragon as he yowled in anguish.

 _{Never do that to me again, Firefly! Why do you have such dreams? I would never hurt you. I trust you with my life and that will never change. I would sooner die a painful death than harm you. You know this!}_

"Sorry." Hiccup smiled weakly. "I _really_ gotta figure out how to stop projecting my nightmares."

In a blue blur of motion, Dart jumped at the rider and latched firmly on his arm, quivering and screeching in distress. Hiccup pulled the little dragon in close, sandwiching him between himself and Toothless. It seemed to comfort the little Terror quite a bit and his claws loosened their painfully tight grip.

Looking around, Hiccup saw some other Vikings stumble to their feet after this disturbance. Others simply rolled over, trying to ignore the commotion. Stormfly was starting to rise up on her long legs, shedding off Gretta and Gerd, who were sharing the dragon as a pillow with Astrid. The Nadder didn't seem to be shaken by the nightmare, so Hiccup concluded that she must have been far enough away that his own weakly projected thoughts didn't reach her as they did Toothless. Stoick was already on his feet, soothingly rubbing Skullcrusher's snout, who must have been barely within range to have his own sleep invaded by such disturbing images. Hopefully, he got nothing more than vague glimpses. It was times like this that Hiccup felt very glad he was nowhere near as potent as a dragon in projecting thoughts.

Astrid gave Hiccup a confused smile as she took in the situation. The two of them were on good terms again, but Hiccup could tell she was not entirely pleased with the stunt he pulled a few days ago, draining her rage by getting her to take it all out on him and using the guilt that followed to coerce some cooperation from her. She felt like he had manipulated her – which he did – and resented that.

Stoick fixed Hiccup with an unreadable stare. "Again?"

Hiccup tilted his head from his perch against his upside-down dragon. The trio had taken to doing this to comfort each other every time Hiccup had a nightmare and Toothless and Dart were helpless to partake. He took comfort in just listening to the dragon's pulse and the whoosh of air with every breath. Toothless had his front paws pressed against the rider's back in an awkward attempt at a hug, desperately trying to pull him in close.

"Yeah," Hiccup grumbled, "Again."

"It was a message from the gods."

He jerked his head over to the source of the small voice.

"No, Tofa, it was _not_. It was just my own stupid imagination taking advantage of the fact that I was asleep."

Stoick scoffed. "Your imagination is many things, son, but persistent and repetitive it is not."

Hiccup deadpanned at his father. "Dad, I-"

He was cut off, though, as a deafening crack of thunder sounded out directly overhead. Hiccup quickly grabbed his prosthetic leg as someone ran over and flung the door open, but it wasn't raining.

Then it hit him. That wasn't thunder; it was the roars of dragons.

Many, many dragons.

Hiccup cursed as he strapped on the prosthetic and donned a coat, stumbling outside. Toothless followed at his heels and flanked him after passing the threshold. The pink of the sunrise was starting to fade as the sun crested the horizon.

Through the morning mist, splotches of colors could be seen. Uncountable dragons whirled around as they crowded to pack themselves into the clearing around the longhouses. Many who couldn't find open ground perched on and hung from various tree branches or dug their claws in to hang off the trunk. This was too many. Yesterday, Hiccup told the riderless dragons to fly over at dawn to start looking for their own riders. There were only twenty-five of them, but over hundreds swarmed around him with more coming into view.

Frantically, he looked around for any that he recognized. Toothless growled and placed a protective wing in front of his rider, who batted it away in irritation. Finally, his eyes picked out a massive Monstrous Nightmare, alpha of one of the four so-called "Dragon Safe Islands" surrounding Berk that many from the Red Death's nest ended up settling on. After a recent invasion against Berk that was thwarted with help from the dragons, Hiccup had a chance to sit and converse with the alphas of the surrounding islands. This Nightmare was near and dear to Hiccup's heart as she was the one who almost killed him after shooting down Toothless during that last raid, back when she was under the mind control of the Red Death. It was she who really helped Stoick open up to dragons as they laughed at the "good old times" when they were trying to kill each other.

Hiccup walked up to the dragon, still a little stiff from having just woken up, ignoring the Night Fury's grumbling protests. The prominent scar that helped him identify the Nightmare twisted as she curled her lips in the best imitation of a smile a Nightmare could pull off, which would appear threatening or frightening to anyone else.

"First Contact!" Hiccup huffed out as he got close. He reached out a tentative hand and the massive dragon extended her neck to press her snout into his palm. "There's never a day I wouldn't be happy to see you, but... there is no way we can find riders for even half these dragons. I was counting on only those few I had been working with. What are you all doing here?"

First Contact took a step back and all the noise suddenly ceased. After all the roars and caws, the silence was almost deafening. Only the flapping of wings could be heard from the dragons still circling above with no clear spot to land. If these were all the dragons from the dragon safe islands, then there couldn't be more than a few hundred, but the colors and shapes all blurred together – both on the ground and in the air.

Suddenly, Hiccup's jaw dropped at the sight before him. All the dragons that had landed pressed in around him and Toothless and splayed out their wings, curling their necks around and pressing their snouts to the ground.

Hiccup stared around dumbly. This was not good. He had just spent the previous night preparing everyone for the new dragons coming in. It took a lot of talking to make any progress in explaining that he does _not_ control the dragons at all. He had to admit they recognized that he and Toothless freed them from the Red Death, but that wouldn't mean they would revere him. Right?

All the dragons were making this gesture, though, demonstrating their trust and respect by exposing to him their most vulnerable and undefended parts: the back and neck. The Vikings were all huddled around the doorways to the longhouses, staring at the scene with a mix of awe, fear, and concern.

Hiccup's mind flashed back to the dream from which he had just awoken, straining to recall what that evil voice had said. Hiccup claimed he had no choice and had to respond to what the world around him forced him to do. Given the circumstances, bringing all Vikings and dragons together seemed like the best thing that could happen.

 _You acted, and so the world is what it is._

However, to act and cause the circumstances, instead of the other way around, was an entirely different story. In a flash, he saw all these dragons fighting each other high in the sky in a meaningless war, falling like tears of sorrow. No matter what happened today, Hiccup vowed he would lay aside every other priority to make sure that these dragons will never follow him or show any signs of special loyalty if it was the last thing he'd do. This sort of control or power was a burden he did not want to bear.

Acting on impulse, he rushed forward to First Contact, grabbed her lower lip, and tugged upward, ignoring Toothless' concerned snarling and whining.

"Up! Get up! First Contact, _what_ are you guys _doing_?! Get up you crazy dragon!"

The dragon looked at Hiccup with her chin just off the ground to stay on his level. Monstrous Nightmares were large compared to most dragons and First Contact was a Stoick the Vast among normal-sized Nightmares.

 _{We are not staying, little Firefly. Back when you were searching for volunteers to accept a rider, you told us that this land-strider training is important for both dragons and land-striders alike. We all agree with you and want to see your efforts met with success and that depends on the cooperation of these land-strider students. So, we make it unmistakably clear that to disrespect you is to disrespect us.}_

Hiccup stared at the Nightmare in front of him, taking it all in. Dragons don't do this. They don't all coordinate together like this. They don't plan and organize and cooperate. Even the more social dragons, like Nadders and Terrors, have never been known to organize their efforts. They're always too busy competing amongst each other to work toward some common goal. It was a trait the Hooligans exploited during the raids by leaving a couple strategically placed cattle in exposed locations to encourage the dragons to fight over them.

To have such a uniform show of loyalty from so many dragons… A small part of Hiccup wanted to bask in all this positive attention and show others about earning a dragon's trust. He took that small part of himself, threw it down, and ground it to dust under his heel. It was too much for him to bear. This was no time for such a display. He slowly shook his head as he stumbled back, his tongue twisting itself into knots, trying to figure out how to shoo them off.

He gasped as he bumped into something. Twisting his head around, he saw his father at his side, Skullcrusher in tow. Stoick put his massive arm behind his son's back.

"Hiccup, you said there would be less than thirty. What is _this_?"

Hiccup finally found his tongue and spat out, "Just as much a surprise to me as you, Dad. First Contact, here, said they're just escorting the few dragons seeking riders and are bidding farewell to them. That was very kind and thoughtful, but now that that's done, they're leaving. Now. And that is all."

He cast a pleading look at the Nightmare. "Right, First Contact?"

Hiccup projected his memories of the Red Death, pouring out all of his resentment and bitterness about what that creature did to the dragons, how it humiliated them and used them as fodder for her own utility and entertainment. She used force of mind to make the dragons do her will, but how is obedience through love any different if the end result is the same? Hiccup figured that if he really had such control over the dragons, the other tribes would declare war and he would never trust himself with that sort of power. He poured all his attention into communicating every little bit of contempt he felt regarding any creature having control over dragons - whether through love or sheer force – as he projected one simple message.

 _{Don't turn me into another Red Death.}_

First Contact jerked her head back, letting out a venomous snarl at the thought, as did many other dragons. Feeling suddenly expended, Hiccup let out a sigh.

"Please, guys. Just go. I'll take care of the dragons I've been working with to get them riders. I promise."

Absolute silence reigned for a moment. Suddenly, First Contact craned her head back and gave a loud roar, joined by the other countless dragons on the ground and in the air. She gave Hiccup a quick lick to the cheek and shot straight up. In a flurry of wings, most of the dragons rose up and flew off, leaving a cloud of fluttering leaves. Only the handful of dragons Hiccup had been working with remained behind, huddled together at one end of the clearing, warily eying the Vikings. As the other dragons disappeared into the thinning morning mist, his ears picked up some scattered comments from the group.

"Don't see _that_ every day.

"Did you see the way he commanded them!"

"Ya, he was like OOOBEEEEY MEEEEE!"

"OOOOOOOBEEEEEEEEY!"

Nasally, someone replied, "Yeeessss maaasssterrrr."

"Ya, remind me to pay more attention when he talks about earning a dragon's loyalty."

"I think this is what Pa meant about learning the secrets to command dragons like Berk does."

Hiccup stared at the ground. He wanted to shout at them to stop, but there was no fury rising up in him, only a sickening clenching at his chest.

"Only Man can organize wars so grand..."

Stoick looked down at his son. "Come again?"

"That's what it said," Hiccup mumbled. "In my dream, it said only Man can organize wars so grand."

Stoick scoffed. "Thought you said your dreams are nothing more than your silly imagination?"

"Pardon me if I start to entertain doubt."

"Look, I'm giving you free reign to do this dragon training, but if you don't finish this, then I will do it _my_ way. Consider that a threat. You know as well as I how necessary this is to survive the suspicions of our neighbors. _All_ of them."

"What if my dreams _are_ a warning? What if this is the start of Viking raids on dragonback?"

Stoick waved a dismissive hand as he pushed his son back toward the longhouse. "Those who try to stop all wars will not survive the least of them. Talk to Gothi about interpreting dreams if it's really bothering you. Otherwise, forget about it. Fear is a device more deadly than any blade. Come. Both parties are as nervous as you are at a Snoggletog dance."

"Right," Hiccup breathed out, reluctantly. "Introductions, I guess."

"Atta boy. Chin up. After all, this is what you've wanted so badly. I would have thought you'd be jumping for joy right now."

Hiccup neared the other Vikings that were gathered around between the two longhouses. The dragons followed about ten paces behind, balancing their fear of Vikings with their desire to be around their one point of familiarity. Hiccup glanced from the Vikings to the dragons behind him, and back again, gesturing with his hands.

"Well, dragons looking for riders, may I introduce you to Vikings looking for dragons. Vikings looking for dragons, dragons looking for riders. You may commence... uhhh... mingling."

* * *

 **A/N:  
** "I wanna take a moment to thank everyone who has shown me support by reading and pushing all 'dem buttons and leaving feedback. It really means a lot to me. I dunno how fun it is for other people to read, but I'm _really_ enjoying the process of writing this. It sure beats writing reports in school."

"Everyone, stop stroking the author's ego!"

"Oh. Look. It's Toothless. How surprising. I guess that's why everything I'm saying is in quotation marks."

"I'll turn your _face_ into quotation marks if you keep writing like this!"

"What? Is my writing _that_ bad?"

"You're a monster!"

"What?! Oh, c'mon, Tooth, I let you do a parody of the forbidden friendship scene with Hauk. I even have another one in a couple chapters that's even more grand."

"Ya, that was really fun, but– Hey, you're trying to distract me! You're a monster. You're tormenting the crap out of Hiccup!"

"Nah. I'm sure he does it to himself."

" _You're_ the one writing this. By your typing, Hiccup got mauled by my brother."

"I bet nobody saw _that_ coming."

"And chewed on by a Skrill."

"Just trying to avoid being too derpy."

"Slapped by his girlfriend..."

"Sounds pretty normal to me."

"Bitten by a Nadder..."

"Hardly. Did I ever tell you about the one time I got my lip bitten by a dog when I was only a few feet tall?"

"And if all _that_ wasn't bad enough, you had me kill him!"

"It was a _dream_ , Tooth. Besides, I thought it would be fun to add some foreshadowing for-"

"Notice how I'm not laughing, Fizz."

"Aw, c'mon. A little drama and hardship makes a story more interesting, right?"

"Nope. I'm taking over your dumb story. _I'll_ do all the typing from now on, so you _move_.

"GAH! So pushy! Besides, how do you even plan on– oh, gods, he's _actually_ managing to type with those claws. Let's see what he's writing."

 _Toothless the bestest, fastest, strongest, and most burninatious dragon flew hi in the sky, with his best friend Hiccup. "its a beautiful day." Hiccup said with joy. "Yes it is!" Toothless said in dragonese._

 _Suddenly a ship came in to sight. Both rider and dragon gasped. "Its Alvin!" Hiccup shouted. "See the ship? It's sails have there tribe crest. Toothless, barrel roll, multiple blasts!"_

 _Toothless rolled as he released three fireballs. The spinning helped because science and stuff lol. The enemy ship exploded and the crewmen were forced to swim all the way back to Outcast island. They were chased by scauldrons the hole way back._

" _Nice shot bud" Hiccup said as they flew into the sunset._

"Hey, Tooth, your grammar is actually a lot better than I imagined it would be for a dragon."

"You've only seen the beginning, Fizz. Just wait until I get into time travel and that dragon Iron Man suit for me."

"I think it'd be more interesting if, say, instead of blowing up the ship, you and Hiccup get shot down and captured and would have to learn to cooperate with-"

"NO! It's _perfect_ as is. And it's only the beginning. Prepare to be amazed-"

"Nope! I gotta get back to writing the rest of Hiccup's dragon training shindig before you give Grammarly an aneurysm. Gimme back my keyboard. It's– Rrrrrghhh– Mine!"

"You can't have it!"

"My precious!"

"You can't win against a dragon, you mangy little biped!"

"Just– OW! No fair using your tail."

"Ha! Whimper, little human. Now, back to my amazing story."

 _Having defeated the evil author, the magnificent dragon continued to type his story of awesomeness and wonder. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the evil author slink around behind the desk, mumbling something about the modularity of desktop computers and wires or something. Toothless suspiciously eyed the sack of flesh, ready to pounce if he tried something cynical. The puny human wrapped his fingers around a black cable in the back of the computer and_


	13. Mingling

**Mingling**

For the longest time, nobody moved. They could have all been made of stone for how still they were. To be fair, nobody really knew what to expect. For countless generations, dragons have been raiding land-striders and neither could tell why. Now, dragons and land-striders have all come together to get to understand each other better, to learn to be more comfortable around each other, and maybe even learn to fly together.

All the riderless dragons could feel it, that sense of vertigo from exposing themselves to a herd of land-striders like this. Firefly assured the dragons that these land-striders would be peaceful, but several generations of instinct were hard to suppress.

The most nervous dragon by far – and he _knew_ it – was an emerald-green deadly adder. At least, that was what the land-striders called his kind. Sure, he knew he could be deadly, but what resemblance he had to a snake was beyond his comprehension. Maybe it was a joke among land-striders. They always came up with the most silly things with their ability to create thoughts from nothing.

The adder shifted his weight uneasily on his long, powerful legs, clawed talons unconsciously gouging the ground. He knew he came here for a reason. He _needed_ to make this work! Yet, he couldn't remove himself from the far back of the cluster as they all stared with uncertainty across the gap at the gathered land-striders. He didn't want to draw attention to himself, but his green scales practically demanded it among the backdrop of brown trees and leaves that were the colors of fire.

He never held out much hope that he would be able to conjure up the confidence to simply strut up to a land-strider. Even with Firefly, who everyone knew had freed all the dragons from the mind snare of the demonic queen, it was a struggle to get within a single wingspan. When little Firefly had reached out to touch him, he snapped at the land-strider against his own will. It was just instinct, a reflex he struggled to fight. The dragon was almost certain that he would never find a rider, but he couldn't give up. He had to try!

 _After all, how can one ever know if one never tries?_

The other dragons should be fine, though, having shown themselves to be much more confident as they played with Firefly, Toothless, and Dart. A couple dragons – the ones with a long neck, very sharp wings, and a lack of legs that is somewhat compensated by some sturdier bones in their wings to bear their weight on land – showed great promise that they would get a rider. For the past few days, they had always been very eager to throw themselves at Firefly – quite literally – to Toothless' horror.

Eventually, Toothless cut through the silence of uncertainty.

 _{You will not get a rider by just standing there. I promise they won't bite.}_ The projected thought was accompanied by an image of one a land-strider trying – in vain – to wrap his little maw around a dragon's neck. It was obvious the black dragon had never actually seen such a sight, so it was quite amazing to see such signs of imagination from him. Perhaps riders shared parts of their mind with their dragons, imparting the ability to observe that which has never been seen. The message had the intended effect, though, as the dragons seemed to relax noticeably. Well, _most_ of them.

Some of the smaller land-striders strode forward with confidence, reaching to make contact. It was strange to see the smaller ones so much braver than the larger, but then again, land-striders are very strange creatures.

One little limb with soft talons at the end reached up and the green adder hissed and reared back. It was all he could do to avoid the snapping reflex. The land-strider pulled back with a cry of alarm, stared at him for a moment but then went on to try with another dragon.

The adder shuffled around the edge of the gathering, casually kicking at the leaves and admiring how the orange, yellow, and red contrasted against his own green scales. He felt so nervous, but he didn't want to just fly off. He _couldn't_ leave. Not now. He _needed_ this! He just _knew_ it!

Looking around, he could see that some dragons and land-striders were already gleefully chasing each other around. One particularly brave land-strider, who seemed to be a male almost as large as Skullcrusher's rider, waved a fish tauntingly in front of one female dragon, waiting for her to reach for it. At the last moment, he snapped the fish away and ran off, prompting her to chase him. She flapped her large wings excitedly, stirring up a cloud of leaves that matched her scales pretty well, then simply crouched, watching the land-strider climb up a tree. He got pretty far up, but the dragon casually hooked the talons at the ends of her wing to climb up to nuzzle the land-strider. She got the fish _and_ some scratches on the snout that she seemed to enjoy so much.

Encouraged by such a display, other land-striders and dragons threw themselves into similar games and activities. Excitement was present in their emotional hums. They were all so full of joy and mirth and felt so carefree and…

Happy.

They were happy.

They all made it look so easy.

 _Just touch a land-strider._

 _Anyone could do it, right?_

 _Right?_

Well, there was one land-strider who didn't seem to be happy at all. The adder noticed the critter staring with great intensity from where he stood next to a yak suspended from a branch by its hind legs. He was using a little shiny claw to carve up the meat in true land-strider fashion. From cutting, to heating over fire, to mixing with various bits of plants, these creatures do everything short of pre-chewing their food before giving it to others. Perhaps that's because they cannot regurgitate food, just like that orange female dragon was doing at this very moment for that land-strider she chased up a tree.

The continued stare of the one standing by the yak pulled at the dragon's attention again. Actually, he realized the land-strider wasn't staring at him so much as his leg. Tilting his head to follow the gaze, his eyes landed on a particularly large scar. The scales never grew back quite right in that area. It was from the very last dragon raid before they were all freed from the mind snare, when he tried to attack a land-strider by surprise, but things didn't go quite as planned. Unprepared for the swift response, the dragon took a broad shiny claw to the leg. It hurt worse than anything else, but another nearby dragon saved him with a quill to the land-strider's back, giving him an opportunity to wrap his teeth around the critter's neck.

The green adder's blood started to boil as he recalled this event, completely powerless to stop himself from reliving every detail. It was the singular most painful moment in his life, not because of the physical injury, but because of what happened to that other dragon. She saved his life, but took one of the land-strider's wooden quills through her open maw, into the soft spot of her head. As she writhed in pain on the ground, he could do nothing but stare in shock.

She was his mate after all. Her belly was even starting to bulge from the eggs she was carrying.

Blinded by rage, he chased after that land-strider that killed his mate, ignoring the branches whipping his snout as he crashed through the forest. The land-strider was fast and nimble in the densely packed trees, though, and managed to escape. Eventually, the pull of the queen forced the dragon to fly back to the nest, injured without and broken within, surrounded by hundreds of other dragons, but still alone.

Normally, a dragon would simply find another mate, but she was not just _any_ mate. Her scales were the most beautiful shades of rosy red and deep violet, with a belly whiter than freshly-fallen snow. Her wings were strong and well-formed, as were her legs, and the straight, even rows of her quills along her tail was nothing short of perfection. Every feature of her body – the eyes, teeth, talons, the shape of her snout – everything was sublime. It was a tough fight to fend off all the other males, but to the victor goes the spoils. Even before mating, they both recognized the excellent breeding in each other and gave their blood to each other as a pact.

No other female would suffice. They weren't good enough. They were all too flawed. Tail too short, spikes too thin, quills uneven, colors weren't right. Worthless, all of them! They just weren't _her_. Oh, they would approach him, but fangs and fire were all they would get.

That land-strider by the yak was _still_ staring. The emerald-green dragon had no clue why the large scar on his leg merited so much attention, unless...

It hit him. Recognition flashed in both dragon and land-strider. Hatred and the hunger for vengeance that had previously cooled down to a layer of ash over the years instantly burst into a raging inferno. The dragon took a hop back and screeched angrily, tail lashing back and forth, quills extended and ready to fire. The land-strider pulled out a long shiny claw and crouched in an aggressive stance.

That was the one! That land-strider was the one that killed the adder's mate and escaped alive. It was so _obvious_ , now! The dragon knew that the other land-strider he had killed on that night was important to this one, probably a sire or clutchmate, but that didn't even come close to making them even. The dragon had no control over himself at the time. He was under the mind snare. Land-striders, on the other wing, were immune to the mind snare and were free to make their own choices. They were responsible for everything they had done!

The dragon crouched down, preparing to lunge at the enemy. They were both ready and eager to fight. As he pushed off into a leap, he was robbed of breath when he discovered that his legs were no longer beneath him. He fell to his side as the weight of Toothless pressed him down. That alone wouldn't have been enough, but Stormfly also landed heavily, pinning his legs. She was not gentle and her talons dug in between the scales. The heavy weight of Skullcrusher smashed his carapace plates into the tail, painfully mashing the quills at awkward angles.

Lost in a rage, the green adder screeched and thrashed with all his strength, trying to break loose. Stormfly's claws dug deeper into his leg and he could feel Toothless' claws dig into the soft spot in the back of his head, at the base where his spikes jut out, but he didn't care. In fact, he _welcomed_ the pain. It was a good distraction from the rage burning within.

As he bucked and kicked, the crushing weight increased as yet another dragon found a perch to smash him tighter to the ground. He knew he could not overpower them all, but redoubled his efforts anyway, expending every last bit of strength. The pile of dragons on top was probably saying something, projecting some sort of command to calm down, but he could hear nothing over his own boiling blood. He continued to fight with all his strength until he finally exhausted himself. It felt much better to be completely drained of any vitality. It lessened his ability to feel anything else.

His vision blurred, at first from the rage, then from the lack of air as his lungs struggled to keep up with his body's demands. As his vision eventually started to clear, the green dragon looked around. One eye was pressed down into the leaves, but the other was facing up and could see. Sensing that the storm had passed, the other dragons got off and stood to the side, but he continued to lay as flat as if he was still crushed against the ground. He simply felt as worn out emotionally as he was physically. Now that the rage had abated enough to think, he noticed that the other dragons seemed to be amused and were actually projecting sympathy.

The land-strider that killed his mate was also being restrained by his own kind, but in a much different manner. He dropped his shiny claws but just stood there, chest heaving through deep, slow, forceful breaths. For a while, the two just glared at each other, pouring out all their hate and anger, but then the land-strider did something that made the dragon simply stare in disbelief. In the blink of an eye, the land-strider's entire emotional palette shifted. His eyes softened and his stance relaxed, as did the hold the other land-striders had on him. His anger dissipated, replaced by acceptance and sorrow.

It was unthinkable that this land-strider could do that. It wasn't fair! It was obvious that both felt great loss from what the other did, but that annoying little insect simply swallowed his hatred and put it away. He somehow grabbed his emotions and put them where he wanted and not the other way around, shedding his hatred like old, dry scales.

Again, another wave of blind rage and anger washed over the dragon and he jumped up to spring at the land-strider. Again, a pile of dragons ground him into the leaves. Again, he thrashed and kicked until he was even more exhausted than before. His whole body burned from the effort and, again, when the other dragons lifted themselves off, he continued to lay there, twitching through the cramps and spasms that wracked his body, gasping for air that was never abundant enough.

He glared at the land-strider, who was distracted in talking to someone else in their strange way of thinking with their lips. With how worn out the dragon felt, his eyelids grew heavy and sleep tugged at his mind. This was as good a spot as any for a nap. Firefly had talked about a belief his people have that, when you die, you meet others who have also died. It sounded very silly, but maybe this land-strider that killed his mate will kill him in his sleep. Maybe their beliefs aren't as brainless as they sound.

Maybe.

As his eyes started to slide closed, he tried to stare at that land-strider for as long as he could. The way that creature simply pushed his bitter emotions to the side was a frustrating enigma to witness. It was a mystery he could not solve.

 _How does he_ do _that?!_

########

* * *

########

"You bastard!"

Astrid swung a fist, catching the side of Grub's jaw. Caught completely by surprise, he staggered back and glared at the shieldmaiden. She was one of the first to respond to the confrontation between him and that emerald-green Deadly Nadder. Resigned to doing things Hiccup's way, her initial goal had been to prevent anyone from coming to blows, but Grub's casual attitude about the catastrophe was not something Astrid would tolerate. His comment about challenging the dragon to a duel only tipped her over the edge.

"You complete and absolute bastard!"

Astrid took another swing, but Grub caught her fist. Not entirely unexpected, but her point had been made.

She jerked her hand back, but Grub tightened his grip on her wrist. Not entirely unexpected, but he wouldn't simply allow her to hit him again.

"Damn, woman!" Grub cursed as he rubbed his chin with his free hand. "Where I come from, people try to use reason before resorting to fisticuffs."

Astrid tried again to jerk her arm free, but Grub maintained a death grip. Trying to be unpredictable, she drove her forehead hard into the bridge of his nose. At least, that was the intent, but she realized she must not have been as unpredictable as she thought and made contact with his forehead instead. Both Vikings stumbled backward in pain. Astrid glared at him.

"What do you think you're doing?!" she demanded.

Grub rolled his eyes. "Defending myself against an irate-"

"Does none of this _matter_ to you?!" Astrid took a bold step to get right in his face. "We're trying to bring dragons and Vikings _together_ ; to make peace with them, not stir up the coals and pour salt into the wounds. Do you _want_ to stop that? We can still truss you up and fly you back home."

Silence reigned as she glared at him. A week ago, when that man first set foot on this island, he seemed to be decent enough. He was exceedingly distrustful about dragons, but so were so many others. Grub, though, was resisting any progress in all the most annoyingly passive-aggressive ways possible.

When he didn't respond, she spat out, "Maybe I'll _accidentally_ drop you in the ocean on the way and rid the world of your miserable self."

"What is your problem?"

"What-" Astrid opened her mouth but was robbed of words at such a silly, deceivingly innocent-sounding question. By now, several other teens were starting to listen in on their conversation. She gestured at the green Nadder, still laying flat on his side, seemingly disjointed from this world.

Jamming her finger at his chest, she ground out through her teeth, "Guess."

Grub simply smiled. "Alright, I see the problem, here. I'll have you know I did not try to provoke the dragon. I did not need to be protected, though."

"Ha!" Astrid took a step back and scoffed. "Did not need protection my foot! That dragon could kill you and your extended family before losing a single drop of blood!"

She immediately bit her tongue and actually felt regret at having gone so far. Grub pulled his arm back, fingers curled in a fist, but by the time Astrid reacted to bring up an arm and prepare to strafe, Grub just stood there, trembling. Eventually, he took a deep breath and slowly lowered his hand, forcing his fingers to relax, allowing color to slowly return to his knuckles. The Vikings nearby visibly relaxed.

Astrid allowed her head to drop down ever-so-slightly. "I'll admit I did take that a bit too far. But _dammit_ , you really know how to get me angry. If _that's_ what you came here to do, then good job. Mission accomplished!" She scowled and made a shooing motion. "You can go home now. You're certainly _not_ here to befriend any dragons. _That_ much is certain."

Grub's face slackened. The hard edge disappeared from his stare. "I'm... trying. I really am."

The somber sincerity in his expression and voice made Astrid start to feel unwanted sympathy for the man. Pride suppressed the urge to say something comforting, so she bit her tongue. Hard.

When it became clear she was not going to respond, he said, "I can only imagine how frustrating it is to want me to succeed and only end up with this, but I've lost so much to the dragons. I'm trying to change... to see them through your eyes. I really _am_ , but you don't know how difficult-"

"WHAT?!"

Fire flared up in the shieldmaiden's chest, instantly charring any remnants of remorse and sympathy. Astrid channeled the inferno within as she jabbed a finger into his chest.

"You think _you_ have it tough? Is _that_ what you think? You think we're all eating sunshine and crapping out rainbows while _you_ alone have your struggles? You think you're the _only_ one to lose someone you love to the raids? You think you're the _only_ one who's had to rise above the grief and bitterness?" Astrid grabbed a handful of Grub's tunic and got right in his face. "IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK?!"

She thought about her father and her three brothers and two sisters. All her siblings would have been older than her if they were still alive. She looked up to them when she was young. She idolized them. She wanted to be just like them, especially her fierce and valiant father.

Then they all died, one by one, in the span of only a couple years. She shed tears on each of their graves – a couple of which were empty for those who were taken to the nest in the claws of a dragon. Each death drove her to train harder, to tolerate no form of weakness, to push and struggle without reservation. She would become a great dragon slayer and avenge them all a thousand times over. A dead dragon for every drop of blood they spilled. Nothing else mattered. Nothing would stop her. _Nothing!_

Then the entire world changed and a Nadder became her battle sister. Astrid's unreserved adoration and trust in Stormfly was the one anchor that kept her sane in this new world of unrequited blood.

Grub made no response, save to slowly shake his head.

Astrid glared at him. "You didn't come here to try to befriend dragons," she continued scathingly. "You did not come here to _succeed_."

THUMP!

She emphasized the last word by pounding the base of her fist into Grub's chest. He made no attempt to stop her. In fact, he had absolutely no reaction to the assault. He just continued to stare at her with a mask completely void of any emotion as he weathered Astrid's tirade.

"You came here to _fail_!"

THUMP!

"You're a petulant child who came here to _pout_ I"

THUMP!

"If you leave here without a dragon, don't you _dare_ even _think-"_

THUMP!

"of saying that you never had a chance. If you leave here without a dragon, it's not because you can't befriend them. It's because _you-"_

THUMP!

 _"choose-_ "

THUMP!

" _to-"_

THUMP!

 _"fail!"_

Astrid took a step back, fuming, shoulders lock, fists clenched at her side, glaring up at him through pants of air. Grub closed his eyes and a warm smile settled on his face. Astrid was about to rearrange his features when the Greenbelly did the most unexpected thing. Ever so slowly, he gently grasped the fingers of her right hand fingertips between the leading edge of his index finger and the pad of his thumb. He slowly brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her still-whitened knuckles.

As he released her slackened hand, she stuttered, "wh... what..."

"You remind me so much of my wife, Astrid Hofferson of the Hairy Hooligan tribe. No, not because of looks, but everything else reminds me so much of her. When she knew she was right, she spoke her mind with such fire and zeal that you couldn't ever conceive of any reply other than 'Yes Ma'am!' Not even Ragnarok could come close to silencing her."

Grub stood there with his eyes gently closed. A smile played across his lips. Astrid stumbled back a step, frustrated at her inability to work up a proper rage to strike the smile off his face.

Instead, she curled her lips and said, "Would have thought they'd send _her_ with you instead of Hauk, then. Why-"

She cut herself off. Grub suddenly looked small and frail. It wasn't until now that she considered the probable reason. There were many gestures to communicate how someone was lost in a raid. Curled fingers at the throat meant they were mauled and torn up. A hand to the shoulder, rising above the head with the fingers fluttering, meant they were burned by dragon fire and were now a smoldering pile of ash. Pinching the thumb and index finger together and flicking the hand away meant they were carried off to the nest.

Grub was making none of those gestures. He was simply dragging the leading edge of his index finger from his left side, up to his right shoulder.

Chopped in half by a Timberjack.

While the stories of Timberjacks cutting a swathe through a forest with their wings were exaggerated, those dragons could certainly cut through any person, armor be damned. Astrid's face slackened.

"I'm... sorry."

"Thank you."

By now, the crowd had dispersed. Both Vikings were quiet, subdued, thoughtful. If he was twenty-five years old, how long would he have been married? Long enough to have several children. Would they have been lost to dragons as well?

Astrid bit back the temptation to ask. "You're not the only one to lose family in the raids."

"I know."

"If you leave here empty-handed, it's only your own fault."

"I agree."

"You're a fool."

"I am a man."

A grin worked its way onto Astrid's face, but she chased it off when something else came to mind.

"Earlier, you weren't really serious about-"

"I'm not going to withdraw my challenge to a duel with that Nadder."

Hiccup suddenly pushed his way forward, placing a hand on Astrid's shoulder before putting on his nervous diplomat posture, complete with shrugging shoulders and flailing arms.

"Alright, alright, that's enough, Grub. Nobody's blaming you for causing this little fiasco, but let's not get _carried away_ , here. Let's put this all behind us."

Grub squared against Hiccup. "Don't worry. We're not going to fight _now_. I'll give the Nadder as long as he needs to regain his strength."

"No. You. Won't." Hiccup declared with finality, eyes narrowed. There was a sharp edge of threat to his voice. Toothless gave a light snarl from the side to back up his rider's brash defiance. Grub flinched. "Or I'll fly you out of here _myself_."

"The Nadder _wants_ to fight."

"Yak shit!"

"Ask him yourself, dragon whisperer."

"I don't _need_ to because I've decided-"

"You said the dragons on Berk are under Viking law."

"We are not on Berk and he–" Hiccup jerked his thumb at the green Nadder – "Is not _from_ Berk."

Grub grinned. "Well, if Berk laws don't apply, then I guess he and I are free to do whatever."

Hiccup fumed. "This is so stupid. Fine, you challenge the dragon to a duel like an idiot. Great. I will fight for him as his champion. Don't forget that you have a dog, but _I_ have a Night- GAH!"

He gasped as Gobber's thumb and forefinger wrapped around his shoulder blade. The rest of Gobber's fingers pinched the boy's torso against the meaty palm of his hand as he dragged Hiccup back away.

"As the eldest here," Gobber tossed over his shoulder, "I bear witness to the challenge and ask for a vote that they fight at sun-up three days from now unless both agree to do so sooner."

Stoick took a step forward from the gathering that had precipitated around the scene. "I second. Does anybody object?"

Hiccup's desperate cry of outrage was muffled by the blacksmith's arm. Astrid watched in amusement as Gobber released Hiccup and they walked into the forest, Hiccup fuming and Gobber patiently reasoning with him in his usual compassionate but uncompromising way, trying to reach the boy in the way nobody else could. Hiccup was so innocent and had such a strength of spirit that he allowed very few to see… it was enough to make Astrid's heart skip a beat whenever he looked into her eyes, but he could be so ridiculous at the same time.

The poor Night Fury tagged along, choosing not to get involved any more than to simply keep his rider in sight. The dragon adored his rider and placed his full trust in him – and rightly so with how much Hiccup loved Toothless and for how much good he's done. Then again, Toothless could never be sure of himself to intervene and stop others from telling Hiccup what to do – and rightly so because his impulsiveness and tunnel vision could cause so much trouble for both of them.

Astrid sighed as she turned to take in the rest of the scene. The other dragons had backed up, giving the green Nadder space, but he just lay there, seemingly asleep. The poor thing looked downright miserable. He just looked... defeated. Gods only knew what history that dragon and this Viking have had in the past to cause such a reaction.

The whole notion of a duel with a dragon sounded so silly. Well, before the dragon war ended, there had been the kill ring with the usual training and show matches, but that was the past. Besides, it's not like a formal duel would even make sense with a dragon. The riderless dragons didn't follow any formal laws. The ones on Berk didn't really, either, but saying they were subject to Viking law was really just a euphemism for saying that the rider is responsible to the village for the dragon's behavior. Still, though, she didn't have to be a dragon whisperer to know that the green Nadder wanted nothing more than to fight Grub and only Grub.

At least Grub was starting to act a little more predictably instead of always getting on her nerves in the most annoying way. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

Maybe.

Her pondering was interrupted by Hauk, who brushed past her with a shout of "WOOOOOOOOOOOAAATCH OUT!" He made for an interesting sight to behold with a tunic that was torn in several spots and stained with blood. More red stains decorated his left leg and his right hand. The Viking looked like he had passed through a meat grinder, but he was wearing the biggest grin Astrid had ever seen in her life.

A grunt alerted her to a large dragon crashing after the Viking. Everyone jumped back in alarm to clear a space, not wanting to get in the dragon's way. It dug its wings into the ground to grind to a halt and tucked its head into the crook of Hauk's arm, crooning softly. Grub jumped back in alarm and stared in shock, jaw hanging to the ground.

"For the record," Hauk panted out between breaths with a childlike, giddy excitement, "Regurgitated cod is the most _disgusting_ thing ever. But Look! I think it's safe to say we're dragon and rider."

Thuggory scoffed, "Dragon, you may now kiss the _bride_."

"What the Hel _happened_ to you?!" Astrid asked in alarm. She gestured to the butchered yak carcass. "You look like you've lost more blood than that Yak over there!"

Grub gawked. "It's a... it's a... it's a..."

Hauk beamed. "Let's just say this. Good idea: playing tag and wrestling with a Night Fury."

He then playfully rapped the back of his knuckles against the dragon standing next to him with one hand while the other fidgeted with his torn bearskin cape. The bottom half was barely hanging on by little wisps.

"Bad idea: playing tag and wrestling with a _Timberjack_!"

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Thanks for reading! Also, if you make it this far, thanks for your feedback, joshben4c. This sort of narration was an experiment, so I'm glad you like it.

In other news, I have a new beta reader. JR_0 is taking a break and I am very grateful for his sharp mind to point out little details I missed to refine the plot and narration of my story so far. VigoGrimborne is my new beta and has already provided a lot of polish, so give his "Living Vicariously" WIP story a go. It features a telepathic Toothless/Hiccup bond, just like mine, but with some interesting differences.


	14. The Bitter Truth

**The Bitter Truth**

"I hate you... _so_ much."

Gobber gave no response as he continued to drag Hiccup down a game path, further into the woods. The noise from the crowd of Vikings and dragons had become quiet and indiscernible at this distance.

Hiccup glared at Gobber. It just wasn't fair! After all these days preparing the Viking and dragon students, he was finally seeing the rewards for his efforts. Some Vikings and dragons already paired up. Hauk and an orange Timberjack instantly became inseparable friends. A married couple from the Mystic tribe found themselves with a Zippleback third wheel, just as they were hoping. Hiccup was in his element, keeping the peace and encouraging the shy Vikings and dragons to approach each other. Then, a little scuffle broke out and everyone decided it was the start of Ragnarok. It wasn't really Grub's fault or the Nadder's. It was just… bad luck.

But to think Gobber would just _drag_ him away like this and ream him through! For what? Having the audacity to stop a scuffle from turning to spilled blood? The injustice!

Hiccup was sorely tempted to ask Toothless to muscle his way out of this situation. Then he thought better of it. As much as he hated to admit it, he was learning to actually respect the wisdom his elders – especially Gobber and his father. Besides, there would be inescapable consequences to trying to force his away against Gobber and Stoick. There was no running from those with whom he lived.

He actually tried to abandon his home, once, about a year ago. After enduring Frustrations of Vikings all around who were so slow to recognize that dragons were equals and not animals, along with some shouting matches that left everyone upset, Hiccup decided he had enough and decided to just fly away. Forever. He could learn to hunt and fish so his loyal dragon wouldn't have to do all the work. It would be great! That's what he told himself. Stoick was very calm and even encouraging when Hiccup told the old man he was going to fly off on Toothless to start a new life. Adventure awaited somewhere beyond that infinite horizon and Hiccup was more than ready to seek it out.

His enthusiasm didn't last long once loneliness and homesickness kicked in. When he returned, Stoick scooped up the boy in his arms and said, "I'm so glad you came back!" The mood was then broken when he set Hiccup down and continued to say, "Gobber thought you'd last an _entire week_ and I wagered _very_ heavily against him, so thank you for that. Now, close the door unless you plan to chop a cord of wood."

Hiccup grumbled as Gobber literally dragged him deeper into the woods. When he became an elder, he would be wise _and_ likable!

Finally, Gobber set Hiccup down to walk on his own foot. With the newly acquired freedom, Hiccup cast a furtive glance behind him. Interpreting that as checking to see if escape was possible, Gobber simply sighed.

"As if life isn't short enough as is," the blacksmith said with an air of boredom

Of course, Hiccup would never run away from Gobber, though it was hard to simply walk away from a problem like this. He just wanted to show others the wisdom of approaching a problem with compassion instead of aggression. That's what gave him Toothless. That's what ended three hundred years of insanity. Instead, these people were so quick to resort to using soulless bits of steel and pain and death to solve their problems. It wasn't just this feud between Grub and that Nadder, it was... _Vikings_!

Hiccup puffed out a frustrated breath of air. "And, yet, it seems that _some_ people think it needs to be shorter."

He looked up at Gobber's face. No reaction. If there was any creature in the world who could understand such an idea – not even counting Toothless, whose blind loyalty was the only thing holding back the tide of a battle-ready spirit – it would be Gobber. The old man never admitted it, but Hiccup could tell he favored a less violent approach to solving problems. If not less violent, then at least less barbaric. In dragon training, before the Red Death, the blacksmith went to great lengths to make sure the dragons were fed and had decent living conditions. In retrospect, it was clear to see that he focused his training solely on defense and evasion rather than attack. All things considered, it was a lot better than how other tribes treated their caged dragons.

Gobber had even prodded Hiccup toward less deadly contraptions to take down dragons, back in his explosively inventive days of dreaming up machines to help in the raids. One might argue it was just to slow down the rate at which things accidentally caught fire or exploded around the impulsive inventor, but Hiccup was convinced of more noble motives. After all, it was Gobber who had convinced his apprentice to use bolas in his latest ballista invention instead of a spear or bolt. It had taken a year after the dragon war ended for Hiccup to realize that things could have turned out so differently based on his choice of ammunition. When he had come to that realization, he happened to be at the smithy with Toothless resting just outside. When the dragon caught wind of the rider's epiphany and realized the implications, he lunged at Gobber and attempted to lick the mustache off his face.

The Gobber hobbling along next to Hiccup today, though, did not resemble the one in the past who encouraged him to tone down the blood-lust. Hiccup kicked at the leaves.

"It's just all so frustrating, Gobber! I'm trying to bring Vikings and dragons _together_ , to show them how to get _past_ their differences, and now, when they need _someone_ to show them a better way, you just _haul_ me off and-"

"I'm doin' this for yer own good, boy."

Hiccup waved his arms in agitation. "I don't care about _my_ own good! I care about them- the dragons! Agh! _Vikings!_ "

Gobber was completely unphased if his bored expression was any indication. "Yer a Viking, too. Don't insult yourself, now. Yer father is very long-sufferin', but I will not tolerate self-derision."

Hiccup fumed. "I'm not a Viking. I've explained myself already!"

"Yep. Was silly, then. Still silly now. You're a Viking. Deal with it."

Hiccup rolled his eyes. "And _what_ makes you think I'm a Viking? I don't fight-"

"You're fighting me right now."

Hiccup opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out. Gobber must have been waiting for that very prompt. Technically, in a very annoying way, the old man was right, but fighting with words and logic was so much different.

Hiccup narrowed his eyes and said, "Ohhhhh, I see what you just did, there, Mr. Semantics."

Gobber continued with the bored expression. He was _very_ talented at maintaining that face. "Yep. And you know what _else_ makes us Vikings?"

"Your musky odor?"

Gobber chuckled as he looked back at Hiccup's shadow. "Toothless, tell Hiccup if he has the proper odor to be a Viking."

The dragon merely chuffed. Hiccup heard his dragon's offhand comment through the contact of his hand that idly stroked the snout.

 _{You smell like Firefly. If you smelled any different, I would lick you a lot more.}_

Hiccup said, "Toothless's response is a resounding 'meh'."

"And," Gobber continued, using the hook affixed to his left arm to tick off the points on his fingers, "You're stubborn as an irate mule, things in your general vicinity spontaneously blow up – pun intended – now that you have a dragon to throw his weight around on your behalf, you don't think twice before trying to _force_ your way on others, once you get an idea stuck in your head, you never-"

"Alright! I get it! Fine, I'm a Viking. Have the scalds around the world write a poem about it! Happy?"

Gobber grinned. "This pleases me."

Hiccup groaned and rolled his eyes.

"Yer behavior isn't about whether you're a Viking or not," Gobber said. "There's a big problem that has been gettin' worse and worse, lately."

Hiccup started waving his hands around in frustration. "And _what_ makes you think that there's a problem? _Aside_ from the one you just dragged me away from."

"This..." Gobber gestured vaguely to Hiccup's entire form.

Hiccup rolled his eyes and cast a glance at his dragon. Through the side of his mouth, he said, "He just gestured to all of me."

"So, ya gonna open up, or ya gonna make me dig? Resistance is painful, I'll warn ya."

"What... I don't get-"

"You had another nightmare."

Hiccup only nodded.

"Toothless?"

He instantly went from irritated to depressed. He put a hand to his shoulder and raised it up above his head, fluttering his fingers – the universal sign that someone was burned to ashes by dragon fire.

"At least it ain't Tolerant, anymore," the blacksmith said.

Those were some pretty messed-up nightmares that went on for a couple weeks after the incident with the Night Furies and Skrill. In one dream, Hiccup stood over a trapped and injured Night Fury. He didn't cut the dragon loose.

Instead, he cut its throat.

That dragon was Tolerant, and Toothless was standing to the side, watching in abject horror. Another lovely dream featured Hiccup stealing away a baby Toothless while Tolerant was attacked by a swarm of dragons from the nest.

 _Stupid stupid stupid imagination!_

 _{Sometimes, I resent your amazing imagination for how vile it can be.}_

"Gee, thanks for reminding me of that," Hiccup muttered.

"I'm goin' somewhere with this," Gobber patiently said.

Hiccup cast a glance up at his mentor, then continued his staring contest with the ground. "Since we're heading back to the longhouses, I'm guessing this conversation is over halfway– OW!"

Hiccup rubbed the back of his head where the blacksmith had whacked it with his meaty hand.

"Somethin's eatin' at your mind. Spit it out."

For a while, Hiccup said nothing. As if sensing his hope that, if he held out long enough, they would arrive back at the longhouses to wiggle away, Gobber stepped in front of Hiccup who almost walked right into him.

 _There goes_ that _plan._

"It has to do with yer dragon students, the ones lookin' fer riders," Gobber said. It was probably a question if one ignored the way it was spoken.

Hiccup nodded. "Do you know what dragons do when they're not under the Red Death? They live their own lives. They keep to themselves. Sure, they have their own private squabbles for nesting grounds, hunting spots, and mates, but aside from that, they're quite peaceful. But you Vikings–"

He shrank under Gobber's glare.

"Fine. _Us_ Vikings, there's one thing we're _really_ good at, and that's war. Conquest, raids, slave trade. If there's one thing we excel at, it's saying," Hiccup put on his best brawny accent, "Hey, I don't like you or I want what you got. Therefore, I shall kill you, take your children as slaves, and rape your wives until-" Gobber slapped his hand over Hiccup's face. "MMPH!"

"HICCUP!"

Toothless whined and snarled as he lightly nipped at Gobber's arm, teeth extending and retracting, caught between the desire to strike out at anything that would go against his rider and the hesitancy built up over the years against interfering with matters between people. Hiccup has always been working on stopping Toothless from instantly jumping to the rescue with fangs and fire when he was confronted by someone.

 _At least it's not that same bored expression on Gobber's face for once._

"We're not all like that, boy," Gobber ground through his teeth. "Berk doesn't do that."

"Well Berk isn't everyone, are we? We're surrounded by so many... RRRGH, _Vikings!_ "

For a while, nothing happened. They just had a staring contest. Nobody moved. The only sound was a gust of wind that set some leaves fluttering to the ground around them. Eventually, Gobber shoved Hiccup away and sighed into his hand.

"If yer mother were here to hear your language..."

A fire flared up and Hiccup's heart turned cold. He stared challengingly at Gobber. "Well she's not around, is she?! The one and _only_ person who said 'Hey, let's try something _other_ than mindless violence' died before I could walk and the _only_ time my _father_ says he's proud of me is when I'm dripping with blood!"

He leaned on his ever-supportive dragon's snout and his voice softened. "And then Toothless comes along and shows me that _everything_ I've been taught is a lie. Everything! Fine, you're right. I _do_ fight and I will _not_ yield against the insanity I see around me. I cannot, in good conscience, just _ignore_ that and let them continue to... to..."

Hiccup gasped in frustration as he gestured vaguely in the direction of all the other Vikings out there by the longhouses.

"Ta' do what?" Gobber asked, allowing some compassion to slide into his voice.

"To let them continue in their ways. To say, 'Yeah, go ahead, continue with your mindless fighting like idiots. Here, have some _fire-breathing dragons_ while you're at it! It's all so stupid when you think about it. When the tribes all heard we gave a dragon a fish instead of an ax, they got scared and united to attack us and we _barely_ weaseled our way out of extinction. So, we sate them by giving them a chance to befriend some dragons, maybe even get them to stop hunting and trapping them. But they're _dragons!_ They have no place getting involved in stupid dreams of conquest and wars and blood feuds! I... I..."

Gobber settled himself on a downed tree and Hiccup slumped down next to him.

"Yer scared."

Hiccup nodded quietly.

 _That hardly scratches the surface._

 _{I'm worried about you, too, Firefly, but my claws and fire are powerless, here. Maybe he can give you what I lack.}_

"I... don't want to be responsible for... what could happen to the dragons. I mean, sure, these Vikings are young and most of them seem to be good people. But they're going back to their _tribes_ , soon. They'll have every last blood-lusting, battle-ready bastard breathing down their necks to get more of their people on dragons. They won't see companions and friends, only weapons for conquest."

Hiccup leaned into the scaly head that was thrust into his lap, pressing his forehead into the top of Toothless' snout and closed his eyes tight. The blacksmith held his peace. Hiccup just focused on the puffs of hot air that splashed against his neck and chest. It was only now that he realized just how much he was trembling.

Finally, he turned his head to look up at Gobber and said, "I'm trying to show them _this_. And _this_ is the _only_ thing I want to be responsible for. But what if the dragons are coaxed into a fight that isn't theirs? Greed and our unique organized system of malice we call 'war' is foreign to them. Their blood will be on _my_ hands! What if... I... I don't know what to do. This training is the only thing stopping a war against us, but it could very easily make future wars so much worse. And don't tell me there won't be more wars! I don't... I don't... _dammit_ , Gobber, I feel so lost. This whole training event was supposed to be the start of a wonderful thing between dragons and Vikings, but it could be the very thing to damn us all to Hel."

Hiccup idly stroked his dragon's maw in silence. Gobber let out a long sigh.

"Analysis paralysis."

Hiccup blinked at Gobber. "What?"

"That's what I call it. Analysis paralysis. The fear ta making the wrong decision, so ya end up doing nothing. But ta do nothing is a decision in itself. And it's usually the _worst_ decision ya can make."

"Then what do I _do_? I will _not_ let the dragons be used as fodder. I cannot allow them to develop a trust that will only be _broken_. But… I don't want to put a stop to this peace offering training event and watch Berk burn, either."

Gobber shrugged as he stood up and started again toward the longhouses. "I don't have the answer you want. Jus' don't let fear be yer taskmaster. Fear is–"

Hiccup rolled his eyes as he finished the familiar litany. "The eternally hungry devil that eats your mind and soul, leaving nothing behind but an empty husk of a broken man."

He believed it, though. Fear is a little Red Death everyone carries between their ears. It can ensnare you, control you, make you do things you normally wouldn't. You wouldn't even recognize what you're doing until it's too late.

For a while, they walked along in companionable silence. Hiccup didn't know what to do, but somehow, he felt a little better about everything.

As they approached the edge of the clearing to see the rainbow of colors of various dragons, Gobber asked, "Do ya really think they can turn a dragon into a warhorse?"

Hiccup paused in thought. A squirrel off to the side caught his attention, perched on a low branch and nibbling on an acorn.

He turned to his dragon. "Toothless? See that squirrel? It offends me. Please give me its head."

Toothless flashed a very toothy smirk as he spun around and sprang up the tree after the squirrel. What followed was an explosion of motion, snapping branches, and fire. The squirrel was a blur of frantic motion, but in the end, Toothless patted out the fires and a dismembered squirrel head was dropped at the feet of a wincing Hiccup. Toothless, sans a few scales that were torn off from the scraping branches, chewed on the rest.

 _{That was a fun game! Let's do it again! Again!}_

"Ya know," Gobber said, "most people just set up a trap."

Hiccup looked over at his mentor. "Toothless? See that Viking? He offends me. Please give me his-" Toothless gave a very toothy smirk at Gobber, who scowled, "-hook."

An instant later, the blacksmith's prosthetic limb was on the ground in front of Hiccup, who bent down and handed it back.

"I get the point," Gobber said with a flat sideways look. "Would he really have tried to kill me if ya ordered him ta do so?"

 _{There would be no trying, only doing, but I like him.}_

"For you, he would hesitate," Hiccup said.

"Oh, is that all?"

Toothless gave the blacksmith's arm a little lick.

Continuing, Hiccup said, "But for almost anyone else, he would kill for me with as much gusto as that squirrel. He has already done so once less than a month ago when I was taken captive and one of my captors got in the way. He has told me in no uncertain terms that his wings and claws and fire are at my disposal and it scares me. Just one slip-up and I would never forgive myself. You can imagine what could happen if every tribe had that sort of power."

Gobber shrugged as they continued walking onward. "I'm sure you'll think of something. After all, yer _Hiccup_. Ya brought down the big bad Night Fury. We'll figure it out, but don't ya dare give up on me ya little runt."

Said dragon playfully nipped at Gobber and ended up chewing on the hook attached to his left arm. Hiccup smiled at the antics.

"That was _almost_ helpful," he said.

As they broke through the trees and into the clearing, Hiccup said, "I'm still gonna stop this silly fighting between Grub and the Nadder."

Gobber gave him a warning stare. "If you go all tyrant lord emperor on anyone again, like you did in shouldering Camicazi into your training, Stoick and I _will_ get involved."

Hiccup sighed and kicked at the leaves. The green Nadder was still sleeping in the same spot and he felt a tug at his heart. Such an intense hatred was sparked up into a roaring inferno when it saw Grub. He didn't want to send Grub off; _that_ would be the tyrant act that would merit retribution from the elders. He also didn't want to tell the Nadder to leave as there was still hope that the dragon could find a rider who could help him deal with the past and move on to a better future.

Off to the side, Grub was finishing up butchering the yak. The Viking gave Hiccup a smile and a wave and went back to his task, but not before giving a cold stare at the unconscious dragon from a distance.

Hiccup ground his teeth.

"RRRRGH! _Vikings!_ "

########

* * *

########

It's funny to think about. Sometimes, the thing a dragon wants so badly can be the very thing he ends up regretting or dreading. The very object of his desires can become the one thing he avoids with all his strength.

Take freedom for example. Of all the dragons present on this island, not a single one had any control over himself while under the effects of the mind snare. That's why they raided; they had no choice. The dragons didn't miss their ability to exert any modicum of free will because they were not permitted to think or feel that way while under the effects of the mind snare. It had actually been a thrilling joy to serve the queen. The dragons loved her and would fly to the ends of the world and die for her pleasure. Well, not that the queen would _allow_ them to fly too far or stay away for too long before pulling them back. They did do a lot of dying for her, though.

After the demonic queen was killed and the clouds in the mind had parted, freedom from any form of control was the most glorious thing ever. It tasted like the most delicious fish!

They wallowed in this newfound freedom by expressing their independence of mind in the most aggressive manner possible. Some of them simply dove into the ocean without any thoughts of rising to the surface again just because they could – either that or it was to drown out the memories and the grief. Others flew wherever the winds would take them, subjected to no other rule than that of the natural world and the immutable elements. Others still found great liberation in living near the ones that freed them from the mind snare, relishing their ability to ignore or even protect the very creatures they were forced to attack not too long ago.

Some of these dragons decided to take this one step farther and try to gain a rider. And what, exactly is a rider? A friend? A companion? An unending fountain of belly rubs? Sure, but a rider was also someone to tell the dragon what to do.

Sleep here. Do you like eating this? Don't eat that! Drink water from this thing, but not from that thing. Put that land-strider down, you bad dragon. Spit him out. Let me ride you as we fly here and there, please. Don't relieve yourself over there. In fact, do it over here and I'll spread your feces over the dirt and grow stuff in it and eat it because I'm a disgusting land-strider.

Land-striders can be silly creatures, sometimes.

For some dragons, though, freedom was a burden too great to bear. Some of it needed to be relinquished to a rider to share the load. Freedom tasted like eels.

Dragons could be silly creatures, sometimes.

After the mind snare was lifted, Skullcrusher quickly found himself in a cage of iron and stone. For countless days and nights, he yearned for the freedom to just fly where the winds would take him without a single care in the world. It would be such a perfect existence!

Then, the first Dragon Whisperer came along. That was at a time before Firefly and his land-striders had any means to hear what a dragon had to say beyond the warbles and snarls. Skullcrusher loved having the Dragon Whisperer as a rider to share the heavy burden of freedom. It was sad to watch him die, though. Life goes on for those who don't stop breathing, but losing a rider is heartbreaking.

Skullcrusher quickly learned to hate that period of time between riders, when he was free to fly as he pleased with no responsibility, no direction, no order. He would fly away with the intent of never coming back, but he always ended up sleeping on that same island every night. For how long he had ached for freedom from all things inserted into his life, he had learned that, sometimes, a dragon gets _exactly_ what he wants – and _hates_ it.

Thankfully, Stalwart accepted the dragon as his own. It was a struggle to get that land-strider to accept his wings, but Skullcrusher was a fighter. He eventually got Stalwart on his back and it finally felt like life had a purpose again from that very day.

Life is confusing, wonderful, vibrant, tough, sometimes cruel, and always deadly – especially at the end. All this Skullcrusher had taken for granted. He didn't have the heart to tell little Firefly that if land-striders do everything together, whether it be eating, sleeping, or fighting, then what is there to do but accept it? He should focus less on trying to control others and more on trying to become better for what he survives. He was so bent on trying to get everyone to love each other without any heartbreak or fighting that he couldn't enjoy the beauty of the struggle.

There was a small group of land-striders, for example, not too many wingspans away, who were learning that lesson right now. They were learning just how easy it was to get hurt when playing with the little mink dragons. They also learned why one should never grab a dragon's tail, even if said dragon was smaller. _Especially_ if the dragon was smaller.

The dragons, likewise, were learning to be more trusting and gentle with the land-striders. They also seemed to be learning how to help lick up the land-strider's blood and clean their wounds without causing extra undue pain – learning, present tense, being the operative term. They were also learning that shoving each other out of the way to show everyone how to _properly_ lick a land-strider's injury wasn't helping anyone.

The large orange dragon with wings as sharp as a land-strider's shiny claw, off past them, was learning a similar lesson. Her burly rider, who had recently learned how fun it is to play with Toothless in a way the dragon's own diminutive rider never could, was passed out on the ground. Having survived playing with his very sharp, orange-scaled friend, heedless of his own condition, he had started to play with Toothless, who had just returned from a romp in the forest. For someone who was very timid around dragons only yesterday, he went all-out and the two were tumbling around, throwing each other to the ground, nothing held back. It looked like a lot of fun. The condition of the newly-designated rider had become apparent, though, when he lunged at the black dragon, vaulted on top of his back, then slid right off the other side to fall to the ground in a boneless heap. It was clear from the commentary of those around him that he would be fine, but he simply lost quite a bit of blood from his orange dragon and needed to rest.

His dragon was gentleness incarnate, though, as she crooned and warbled and licked his wounds before Firefly came in and wrapped them up in those little scraps of hides made from plants the land-striders so love to put on every little cut.

Not _all_ the play was one-on-one. Sometimes, though less often and to a lesser degree, dragons do things together, too. Take those two yellow and teal spike-tailed deadly adders, for example, as they worked together to try to claim a single land-strider as their own. The poor critter caught between them couldn't have been any older than Firefly. While she seemed to be the tough fighter sort, like Stormfly's rider, she was definitely, absolutely terrified. After all, having one's limbs clamped in the maws of dragons, pulled in opposing directions, cannot be comfortable for creatures without hardened carapace plates or even scales covering their hides.

The dragons were as gentle as they could manage, but they were learning that soft flesh and sharp teeth make a terrible combination, especially when fighting to win over the land-strider's loyalty. The land-strider had only herself to blame, really. Just like with mates, if two dragons were fighting for her, she should have just chosen one and made it clear to the other he would need to find another rider.

Still, while life can be harsh, there's certainly no harm in helping others if they can still learn from what happened and improve. Skullcrusher decided to… insert himself… into the situation. It was one thing he was very good at, after all.

He charged in and slammed the base of his horn against one adder and swung his massive tail into the side of the other. The first stumbled to the side and the other completely tumbled over from the impact. Freed from their grips, the land-strider collapsed to the ground but sprang to her feet with impressive determination as she quickly inspected her wounds. There were some cuts and tears that would likely hurt for several days and take even longer to heal, but it wasn't anything crippling. Skullcrusher roared at the pair of dragons as they rolled back onto their feet.

 _{You will not win her loyalty by tearing her to shreds, stupid dragons! If you do that again, she will chop off your head with her shiny claw and I will hold you down while she does it.}_

They both made a fuss over smoothing their scales where they had been hit and went back to the land-strider, dividing their attention between nuzzling the creature and snapping and hissing at each other. The land-strider picked up the fish that had fallen to the ground. It was big and looked absolutely delicious, but the dragons weren't interested in just _eating_ the fish. No, they wanted to be _given_ the fish. They wanted to be shown a sign of the land-strider's loyalty. The goal was to get the land-strider to use their unique upper limbs that they depend on so much to survive in this world just like a land-strider wanted to get a dragon to use his wings for the rider's sake.

Both of them lowered their heads when the land-strider stormed off with the fish. Skullcrusher huffed and casually projected his support for the land-strider's actions. Those dragons didn't deserve her. She would just find a better dragon.

They were all surprised, though, when the land-strider returned with a second fish. As she walked, she did that thing land-striders are so good at, where she held the fish by the gills and let them sway back and forth so seductively with every step, brilliantly shimmering so tantalizingly in the sun.

As she approached the dragons, she growled with an air of authority that took all the dragons by surprise – no doubt thanks to Firefly's training. She taunted them with the fish and then the three just settled into awkwardly staring at each other, to Skullcrusher's amusement.

What happened next to the teal dragon was even more entertaining. The land-strider shifted the fish over to free one of her upper limbs, which she swung hard into the dragon's snout. It could not have been chance that her blow landed right on the soft spot inside the nostril, causing the dragon to roll around on the ground, squawking in pain before standing up to hiss and screech at her. The dragon's protests were silenced, though, when a fish was tossed at her and she greedily snapped it out of the air.

The land-strider then turned to the yellow dragon and attempted to give the same treatment. The dragon flinched to the side, but the land-strider quickly shifted the fish and hit the dragon even harder from the other side.

Skullcrusher sighed in contentment as he watched the land-strider walk away with the other dragons staring in stunned confusion. Stalwart sidled up and slapped Skullcrusher's neck affectionately as he watched the scene with a smile on his face. The dragon crooned and shoved his rider back before lowering his belly to the ground. It was time to fly back home. Stalwart's people needed him.

For the past several days, little Firefly was so full of uncontainable excitement for this day that he almost could have flown on his own. But, now... well, it's funny how you sometimes get exactly what you want, only to hate it. Oh well.

Firefly should be alright.

The dragons and land-striders here may even survive each other, too.

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Thanks for reading! Also, thanks to VigoGrimborn for being my beta buddy.

By the way, ThatGuyWhoAlwaysSignsHisCommentsWithA":-D", you've inspired me to be more true to canon for the rider names. I've been fixing them as I go so I don't use my own slang (Fishy, Snotty, Hic, Tooth, etc.). Well, except for my author's notes. Anything goes there. ;)

Oh, and you may have noticed that Toothless isn't interrupting my author's note for the first time. He and Hiccup are on vacation. They said something about going to New Zealand to tame a dragon named Smaug or something like that. Anyway, I have a pair of stunt doubles for the very brief exposure they get next chapter or so. Ya know, add a little bit of movie magic and you can't even tell it's not really them.

Also, no Vikings were actually harmed during the making of this chapter. Any appearance to the contrary is just movie magic. I just wanted to diverge from the whole "cute cuddly wuddly dwagons automatically wuv their new riders" sort of scene. I actually wanted to make it a bit more violent because, well, they're _dragons_ for crying out loud, but my producer didn't want to go _too_ far. I was also gonna have some Vikings get spooked and stab at the dragons, starting little scuffles, but the animal rights activists shot down _that_ venture like it was an entangled Night Fury.


	15. All Under Control

**All Under Control**

Blue sky, bright sun, scattered clouds, stiff breeze, and a moderate chance of falling land-striders. Life just could not get any better. The previous day, when all the riderless dragons came over, featured a massive amount of wind and rain, but that had passed by and flying was on again. Firefly has been taking new dragon/rider pairs up into the air to get them used to flying together, which, of course, scared the living daylights out of the riders and filled the dragons with an indescribable joy at their first flight with the company of another. It was such an amazing experience for everyone involved!

Teaser vigorously shook her head. Falling asleep while airborne would lead only to disaster.

It really shouldn't have been any surprise. She saw it coming after her previous flight with Firestarter. The rider was still quite stiff and sore with how much she had cramped up during that frantically wonderful and intense flight, but now, it was... it was...

Teaser snorted in annoyance. They were practically _hovering_ over the ocean!

The waves that marched along to lap against the rocky shore almost moved faster than the dragons. However, Firestarter absolutely refused to even _consider_ getting on the dragon's back until Teaser had promised that she would fly very low, slow and relaxed. So, the dragon consented. She had learned that flying alone was suddenly boring after experiencing what it was like to have a rider.

All around, other dragons were also flying with their riders, many for the first time. Some didn't have a rider yet, but flew along just to see what it was all about. A two-headed dragon carried a pair of riders that were dedicated as lifelong mates. Well, some say it is one dragon sharing two riders, others say it is two dragons in one body. Even they themselves cannot agree and the way they talk to themselves – or each other – makes one wonder if they are two unfortunate souls trapped in one body or one crazy dragon.

Conversely, there were a few land-striders that were riders of multiple dragons. Well, one can hardly call the land-strider the _rider_ when talking about the little mink dragons. Rather, one might suppose the dragon would be the rider, then. The mink dragons haven't really attached themselves to specific land-striders the way the other dragons have, but they already picked favorites. A pair of deadly adders, a teal male and a yellow female, started to share a single rider. It will be interesting to see how they learn to share the rider in flight or, more likely, to see if the rider can survive two dragons fighting over her.

Toothless was off to one side and Hookfang, who recently flew in to replace Stormfly, was on the other. Some other dragons who had recently gained a rider were also flying along, loosely clustered around them. Aside from Barf and Belch, no other dragon present had any name. Well, they were all dubbed as the ones seeking riders, but that hardly fit in with the land-strider tendency to name everything, be it plants, animals, islands, or even their shiny claws. They just haven't settled on satisfactory names, yet.

Despite how immensely, indescribably dull this slow and boring flight was, Firestarter was thoroughly enjoying herself, which was _some_ consolation. Teaser really enjoyed messing with her rider, but was also learning to show some respect, too. Still, it was so mind-numbingly _boring_ to just fly in a straight line and into the wind. If one ignored the strong headwind whipping at them and just focused on the beach below, the riders would feel like they were almost not moving at all.

Teaser had to admit, though, that her rider was getting better at moving with the rhythm of flight. Firefly and Hookfang's rider, Cougar, were instructing the new riders on how to lean to the side when the dragon banks, forward to dive, backward to climb, and push their legs down into the dragon with every beat of the wings. Firestarter was smart and quick to learn and the thrill of flying with her cooperation made up for how boring this slow flight was otherwise.

Almost.

All the other dragons were having fun, though, just enjoying their first experience flying with a rider. All around, they were projecting their thoughts and excitement.

 _{I think my rider is starting to get really good at helping my flight. With the way she leans and bobs with every flap of my wings and change in direction, it's almost as if I'm even more maneuverable with her than without.}_

 _{I almost stepped on my rider earlier today while playing with him. When do you think he will be ready to join us in racing around and chasing each other in the air? It's so much more fun than on the ground.}_

 _{Does anyone else think it's a strange feeling to have a land-strider pet you while in the air?}_

 _{I think it's wonderful. If I tilt my head to the side just so, my rider can't resist scratching me behind my ear. I think I will keep him forever if he keeps this up!}_

 _{_ My _rider is still scared. I can feel it no matter how smooth I try to make my flying. Do you think he will calm down if I just fly a lot higher?}_

Hookfang snorted. _{I had that same problem and it worked on Cougar. You just have to persistently train your rider to stop whining. Every time mine would start to shake or whine, I would just fly really high and drop him and catch him again. After a couple times of passing out and waking up dangling upside-down in my claws, he learned to be calm and confident. Well, quiet, at least. Just be warned, they may leak when scared. It must be a survival instinct.}_

All the dragons snorted in good humor as they shot a look at Hookfang. Even Firefly gave a nasally, singsong giggle. He must have picked up the conversation through his contact with Toothless.

 _{Why don't we do that right now? I think everyone is getting good at flying low and slow. If we go up higher, I could show them that falling isn't the end of the world.}_

 _{Firefly, if you jump off without warning me again, I_ will _sit on you and gnaw on your head until the sun sets and rises again!}_

Teaser breathed a sigh of relief as she angled up to follow the black dragon and his rider. It was actually really hard work to fly so slowly. Her shorter, tapered wings that sliced through the air were built for speedy dives. The downside was that cruising at slow speeds took quite a bit more effort than with other dragons.

Firestarter mewled a little bit as they picked up speed and altitude, but remained resolute. Teaser made sure to focus on the rider's emotional hum to be sensitive to her fears, but all was well so far. The rider was feeling nervous, but a little warble that prompted some rubbing on the back of the dragon's head was all it took to get her feeling calm and confident in her dragon.

 _As she_ should _, of course!_

As they broke through the scattered wisps of clouds, all the new riders gasped in wonder at the new scenery. Apparently, they all thought the clouds were made of some sort of milk-derived food instead of wisps of mist.

 _And they think of themselves as the smarter ones?_

After a while, the new riders started to visibly relax and just enjoy the experience. Firefly and Cougar shouted something at the other riders. Judging by the projections, it was something about staying on their dragons, but Firefly was going to dive off of Toothless to demonstrate that falling isn't so bad since the dragon can always dive with the rider and catch them. Riders were so sleek and slender, though, that they could fall faster than a dragon possibly could, but they could also spread out and slow down quite a bit so the dragon could catch up.

Suddenly, as Firefly balanced his good leg on top of his dragon's head, an idea came to Teaser's mind. She didn't dwell on how she had never come up with these devious pranks that had become her namesake until she started flying with her rider, nor did she take the time to consider that, maybe, her rider was the actual origin of such mischievous ideas. Instead, she simply lurched forward. With one, hard flap of her wings and a flip of her neck, she caught her snout under Toothless' wing and pushed up, causing the black dragon to flip over unexpectedly. She also projected an assurance that she had no intention to harm anybody, but just wanted to scare Firestarter into thinking her dragon was attacking Firefly.

 _It would be_ so _fun!_

Of course, while the other dragons heard her assurances, her own rider was oblivious if the screaming was any indication. Firefly was also left in the dark as he fumbled around in his dive, being disconnected from his dragon so he couldn't hear the projected thoughts. Toothless snarled a warning about getting too close for good measure.

Firefly looked very worried at seeing Teaser plummeting just behind Toothless' tail with her wings folded in. He spread himself out to slow down and Teaser playfully nipped at him, which only made him more scared. Toothless screeched his annoyance as he demonstrated an impressive amount of control for a maimed dragon and shoved Teaser to the side before sliding under his own rider to open his wings and level off. Teaser recovered her balance and steadied her spinning to swoop back up.

Firestarter was in a panic, but it wasn't as bad as the previous flight. As the two dragons plus riders ascended back up to the others, Teaser could hear Toothless explaining to his rider what, exactly had happened. Now that Firefly understood that he wasn't really in any danger and that Teaser was just living up to her name, he actually leaned back and laughed, slapping his dragon in good humor. Toothless groaned at such a carefree response to the situation and instigated a war between his sensor lobes and the rider's face. The dragon won.

As Firefly stomped all over Teaser's fun by explaining everything to the very confused and frightened Firestarter, she actually laughed about it, too. Teaser could feel her rider's fears melting away as mirth overtook her. As they angled in to land, Teaser felt that they made a lot of progress today. She could just feel the heightened level of trust her rider had developed. As her talons touched down on the ground, both dragon and rider were thinking the same thing.

 _We can accomplish so much wonderful mischief together._

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* * *

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The fire circle outside the longhouses was more crowded than it had ever been. It wasn't just a _little_ crowded. Riders were stacked on top of dragons... dragons on top of riders. They were all stuffing themselves in around the sizable bonfire so they could talk about the day's events without shouting. Various sticks extended out from several hands with assorted bits of meat at the tip to cook over the coals.

Every now and then, a dragon would lean forward and let out a burst of fire into the bed of coals, momentarily stoking the flames into a raging inferno. Sometimes, people would grumble, especially when a Nadder let loose a large gout of flame and the intense heat forced everybody back. It was as if the dragons were playing a game with each other to see who could lob out fire with the least amount of complaints. Most of the Vikings just enjoyed the show as they were not busy trying to cook their food without turning it into charcoal.

Thuggory was not one of them, though.

He gave a harrumph at his newly acquainted Gronckle, who just let out a glob of molten rock into the fire. Sparks and embers flew into the air with some Ooh's and aah's. The chunk of Yak meat at the end of his stick got a burnt side to it, but it wasn't so bad. He pulled it off and idly tore a piece for himself. The other larger chunk went sailing into the Gronckle's mouth.

"I saved the burnt portion for you, Mr. show-off."

The Gronckle snapped the meat out of the air and instantly inhaled it. Thuggory was learning that dragons actually enjoyed partially cooked meat, especially with certain seasonings, like that so-called "dragon nip" that Hiccup had brought in massive quantities. Dragons naturally just wolf down their meat raw and warm from their kill, but such fancy fobbery as cooked and seasoned meat was an interesting novelty to them.

Yesterday, the Thorston twins had shown that dragons also enjoy some grease-laden bread. Ruffnut had ground up some dried dragon nip and mixed it into a loaf to give to that dark green Nadder, the one that tried to attack Grub. Well, the dragon wouldn't let her near, but did eat the bread she left on a stump. Judging by the swaying movements as the dragon attempted to walk in a straight line, it must have been some pretty potent stuff.

"So, what was your favorite part about flying on a dragon?"

Thuggory looked over at the speaker. He could barely see the toothpick "Dragon master" across the bonfire. This was Thuggory's first day of flying, but for others, the second or third. It was funny to think about it, now, in retrospect. Everybody had been so skeptical when they heard that dragons had been controlled and just magically changed their ways overnight. Tonight, though... well, spending so much time watching the riders roll around on the ground with their dragons had its effect on numbing everyone to their suspicions.

"The speed!" someone shouted out. Thuggory squinted and could barely make out Gustav from the Hooligan tribe, perched on the forehead of his Nightmare, which was curled up to the side. Apparently, it was considered "fair" for the tribe that already had so many dragon riders to send students to this training. Just like how it was fair for the Burglar tribe to have three people here when everyone agreed on no more than two per tribe or how Vigdis was allowed to tame two Deadly Nadders.

"The fear!" He couldn't quite make out who that was. Half of them were strangers, anyway, not really worth getting to know.

"My favorite part," Hauk belted out through uncontrollable, giddy laughter, "was when Toothless shot out that fireball and _covered_ Hiccup in soot!"

Scattered chuckles.

"The sound!"

Everyone turned heads to the speaker with a surprised "Huh?"

"You heard me!" She was the young woman from the Berserker tribe, Vigdis. Fiery temperament, prideful, strong, fighting spirit... easily manipulated.

Ruffnut piped up in the dubious silence. "I am intrigued by your most unusual answer. Please, madam, if my request is sufficiently innocuous, do continue. I, for one, am most curious what sort of... sounds... you find to be so... fascinating."

"It's just..." Vigdis paused in contemplation as she leaned over to stroke her dragon's snout. Well, _one_ of her dragons. This one was the teal male Nadder. "The experience of it all, really...during the moment. The rush of air through his nostrils, the air thrashing in my ears, the way his wings snap in the wind. The clapping of my girl's teeth-" Vigdis reached to her other side to pat her yellow Nadder, "like she's saying, 'I could bite off your head for choosing to ride him before me, but I won't.' It just makes me feel so... so..."

"Powerful!" somebody finished for her.

Thoughtful silence, punctuated by murmurs of agreement.

"I for one, " Tuffnut said as he stumbled up onto his lanky legs, "Take great pleasure in the feeling of trust. Sure, it's one thing to sheathe your weapon and turn your back on a dragon and say, 'Hey, look, he's ignoring my sister and not biting my head off', but it's an entirely new level of appreciation to put yourself up in the air, suspended only by their wings and blind trust, where my fine, scaled henchman needs to actually look after my own safety so I don't drown in the freezing waters below or fall to the ground and break every bone in my body in a glorious cacophony of-"

"We get it, bro," Ruffnut cut in. "You're getting waaay too mushy for comfort."

Tuffnut stuck out his tongue down at her and said, "Peace, my cognitively challenged sister. I don't always talk seriously, but when I do, it's because I've had one too many- OOF!"

He was cut off as Ruffnut lunged up and hooked her arms around his knees, taking them both to the ground.

As the fighting devolved, Hiccup said, "That's actually a really insightful response, Tuff. I don't know what to say. That's... uh... I mean _you_ said that."

Tuffnut rolled over to where he was originally seated from where he and his sister were laid out, recovering from their fight. He deadpanned at Hiccup and said, "Very mature, Hic. Very mature."

Hiccup drew back with a cringe "I, uhhh... sorry, you're right, Tuff."

"Yes, you should be sorry."

Awkward silence.

"And," he continued, "you _totally_ should make up for that by letting me ride Toothless for a day."

Hiccup stuttered. "Wha- I... uhhhh, I don't think it's a matter of whether _I_ am okay with that..."

Tuffnut waved it off with a snort. "Nah, I'm just kidding, dude. Toothless, Hic still as soot on his face. Lick him!"

"I do not- ACK- TOOTHBPBPB!"

Thuggory watched in detachment as the Night Fury gave a slobbery assault to his rider's face.

The gods have a cruel sense of humor. Before the dragons raids ceased, Hiccup was just an annoying little fish-bone everybody thought would eventually be used to brush a dragon's teeth on his way down the hatch. Tribal visits featured the fun sport of seeing how many times he could plant the little twig into the dirt without any of the adults seeing.

Then the raids stopped and the little twerp was, at first, a ghost that everyone on Berk would say was off somewhere or unavailable during the visits, which was perfectly fine. Then, he was the talk of all the tribes. Whispers started popping up here and there about Hiccup this and Night Fury that. It was almost insulting that people were talking so much about that sack of bones.

Now, though, the gods were just being derisive. When Hiccup realized Thuggory had a fair bit of experience in making horse saddles, then, well, the master of dragons was suddenly the master of all and Thuggory had a new job on the island.

He smiled and played the part. Yessir Mr. dragon master sir. I would _love_ to scrape and tan the hides. Boy oh boy, how did you know that working with sloppy brains and soggy leather is my _favorite_ thing to do?! Oh, you need me to spend the _entire_ day harvesting sinew and stitching saddles for _everyone else_? I was _born_ to do that!"

 _As Dad always said, the road to power is paved in blood, but it sometimes starts with some brown noses._

Hiccup was the dragon master. Hiccup could hear the dragons talk. Hiccup controlled the dragons. Oh, he would say otherwise, hands waving in the air, stuttering exasperation, the whole bit. However, it is clear to see that the dragons respected him. They loved him. Fear commands the body and respect, the mind, but love commands the heart.

Any doubt of this was recently vanquished. It was less than two months ago that a massive, inter-tribal armada was sent to attack Berk and beat every last dragon secret out of them, only to be turned back by a raid of hundreds of dragons. Now, the tribes had all agreed to this dragon training. Two members per tribe. No more.

Pah! Some tribes got three dragons, like that Berserker girl with her two Nadders – two! – and her tribe-mate with the Nightmare. Others got only one Zippleback to share. Thuggory's tribe-mate didn't have a dragon, yet – who knows if he'll ever get one – and Thuggory himself ended up with a Gronckle, which caused a lot of biting comments from the other whelps around here.

 _Just another way the gods mock us. Have we not prayed and sacrificed as much as the others?_

For all the taunting and mocking, though, a Gronckle was actually a fine dragon to have as a friend and fellow warrior. Thick hide, tough scales, big, sharp teeth along the outside and massive molars inside for chewing up rocks and such. For what they lack in aerial swooping and speed over long distances, they make up in agility. They can handle tight corridors that would slow down other dragons and can change directions very quickly. Thuggory has seen Gronckles performing gravity-defying stunts as they buzz about like overgrown bees; one moment they're seemingly focused on a sheep during a raid, then they're carrying the village idiot off to the nest in their massive maw.

Hopefully, all Fishleg's babbling about Gronckle iron would turn out to be useful. It sounded like a wonder metal, easy to shape, not too finicky about tempering, and resilient against deformation. It could be used to make better weaponry. Crossbows could be made lighter and more powerful without running into the issues of losing power after the first few shots if under load for too long. Battleaxes could be made from this stuff with a hardened steel insert along the edge for a lighter ax that would still cut just as well. Chains, lighter and stronger. Hel, even entire arrow or bolt shafts could be made from this stuff.

For all he knew, this whole Gronckle iron thing could all just be a hoax, a practical joke, but if it could scale up to a ballista size...

The fat, bumbling fool almost let the other Vikings hear about this metal. If Thuggory didn't drag him toward the woods with feigned fascination that the other teen ate up hook, line, and sinker, then he would have told everybody about it. The Berserker tribe, for example, had well over a dozen of those beasts caged up on their island. If they caught wind...

Thuggory looked over at his own Gronckle, who was laid out right next to him, eying him curiously. He smiled at the dragon and stroked his snout, eliciting some huffing, panting, and tail wagging – to whatever, very limited degree a Gronckle was capable of wagging his stump of a tail.

The conversation around him had returned to the nonsense from which it came, so Thuggory casually got up and wandered off. His Gronckle followed along, nuzzling him. They playfully pushed each other back and forth as they wandered away. Finally, a suitable name came to mind.

"How about Forge, boy?"

The dragon tilted his head to the side and stared at him.

"Forge." Thuggory smiled as he focused on what, exactly, a forge was. How it looked, what it did, the feeling of power one gets when shaping a sword or an ax head. He had never been a blacksmith by profession, but had dabbled in fashioning bits and pieces. The successes, failures, and enormous amount of work he realized it took to make a proper weapon gave him great appreciation for the blacksmiths on his island who swung hammers all day long.

"What do you think of that name, Forge? The ability to build up and tear down. The power to create and destroy. Do you find Forge to be a fitting name for yourself?"

He decided to take the lick to his cheek as a "yes".

"You probably named me Boot-Licker by now. Couldn't blame ya."

He picked up a dead stick from the ground and whacked it as hard as he could against a little sapling. The stick broke to his satisfaction, but the dragon misinterpreted his rider's stare and wrapped his massive maw around the sapling, tearing it out by the root ball.

Thuggory grinned. Forge really liked just being around him and was always eager to jump to help in whatever way he could. Already, Thuggory's mind was forming plans for what he could do with his new scaly companion. He and his tribe mate, if he ever gets a dragon, would be the only riders on their island. Chief Mogadon was getting too conservative in his old age and some peer pressure would remove him from the throne cleanly so Thuggory could step up as the appointed heir. It would be a lot safer than that idiot, Dagur, who stabbed his old man in the back. The Meathead tribe was once a mighty and feared tribe, but has become lax and complacent in recent years. With Forge, he will hammer them back into shape against the anvil.

"Forge, you and I will do great things together. Wonderful things. After all..."

Thuggory found a tree that looked like it needed some watering. He was starting to get accustomed to how his dragon would stare, as if studying him, whenever he relieved himself. Snotlout had assured him it was nothing to be worried about and had said that dragons were always completely flummoxed to see that Vikings could peel off their hides without any sign of pain.

"Those who persist, prevail."

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* * *

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"So what's he think of me?" Grub asked out of nowhere.

Hiccup blinked in surprise. Everyone had started to disband after the conversation and the bonfire had died down. He had been simply lounging against his dragon's side, enjoying the scene of so many Vikings and dragons walking side-by-side. His eyes finally settled on Grub, who was crouched over his ever-present red-haired sheepdog.

"What?"

"Toothless." Grub said. "What does he think of me?"

Hiccup scowled. "He thinks you're very silly with all this nonsense about fighting the Nadder."

A groan and a scaly snout shoving its way into Hiccup's side seemed to voice the dragon's disagreement. Grub grinned at the sight despite the fact that he was closer to a dragon than he had ever been since he stepped foot on this island. If he had a stick, he could reach out past the rider and poke the beast.

"Shush!" Hiccup hissed at the dragon. Turning back to Grub, he said, "Toothless doesn't know what he's talking about, but if he did, he'd be voicing his objection to your childish behavior."

"Maybe it's the only way the Nadder and I can ever find peace."

Hiccup deadpanned. "By killing each other?"

"Death is pretty peaceful. Ever see a grieving corpse?"

The rider threw his hands up in the air in exasperation.

"This is what I can't stand about you Vikings! You sow wheat to harvest wheat. Dragons spawn dragons. Sheepdogs are born from sheepdogs. Hate spreads more hate."

Grub shrugged and the two looked away from each other in the awkward silence. Eventually, he spoke up again. "So you're not willing to answer my question?"

"Huh?"

"What does the Night Fury think about me?"

Hiccup closed his eyes as he idly reached back to stroke his dragon's side. He took a deep breath that ended in a snort as his eyes shot open in surprise.

"Guess."

"Guess?"

"Ya." Hiccup said as a grin settled on his face. "He just told me and I'll admit it took me by surprise. I'm curious what you think."

Grub looked long and hard at the dragon that was eying him from behind his rider. "Hmmm, I wouldn't blame him if he thinks I am foolish. Spineless. A coward. There are so many Vikings here who have succeeded where I have failed. They fly dragons and I haven't even managed to-"

"Brave."

Grub stared at Hiccup in disbelief.

"That's very kind of you to say."

"Not my words. Toothless said that."

"Doubt that, dragon whisperer. I mean Hauk, for example, was wrestling and dancing with your dragon for the past couple days."

"Until he passed out from blood loss. That Timberjack is as kind as can be, but she really did a number on him."

Grub waved it off dismissively. "He's endured much worse. It's a thousand miracles he hadn't lost half his limbs years ago."

Hiccup chuckled. "It took me by surprise, too, how quickly he warmed up to playing with dragons. Toothless is enjoying it, too. We love to play-fight as much as ever, but now he can really throw his weight around with a playmate with more muscle in one pinky than I have in my whole body.

Really, though, Grub, I would have thought he was struggling just as much as you until he made himself touch Toothless. It really does let you see a side of dragons you never knew existed."

"I can't even work up the nerve to touch the damn thing!"

"Hey! Toothless is not a damn _thing_. He's a damn _dragon_. A damn _fine_ dragon if you ask me."

Grub gave a sad smile. "Fine, I can't even get myself to touch the damn _fine_ dragon."

Awkward silence. Grub idly broke off pieces from some little sticks at his feet and tossed them in the fire. Rusty snapped up the stick from Grub's hand and growled as the two started a playful little tug of war. After a moment, he let go and Rusty stood there for a moment, blinking in confusion, before dropping the stick. The thing that was no longer contested was suddenly the thing he no longer cared for.

Hiccup closed his eyes and seemed to sink into his dragon. "Toothless really did say that, Grub. He can tell it's not because of a lack of effort. He can see that you're really trying and haven't given up and he can respect that. After all, what honor is there in a fight that cannot be lost? What glory is there when victory is assured? You're fighting a losing battle, and yet you keep on trying. You're not fearless as you have plenty of reason to fear, but you are relentless. That is true bravery."

Grub stared at the glowing coals in thoughtful silence. With how much wood had been burned here in the past ten days, it had grown into quite the mound, slowly burning down, but ready to light new wood ablaze the next day.

"Your dragon really said that?"

"His words. Well, not really words. In fact, I had to take a bit of poetic license. I don't think I will ever get used to the way dragons think or communicate. It's so... different... like it's focused so much on emotion and senses and perception instead of measurable, tangible things. Fishlegs said that, according to some bits he's picked up from various books, it has something to do with conceptual vs. empirical observations."

Grub gave a thoughtful stare. The dragon just kept its acidic green eyes on him.

"Thanks... Toothless. I... just... thanks."

"Really, though, he also says that if you attack that Nadder, he'll- ACK! Toothless!" Hiccup used his free hand to push against the dragon's maw, which was currently gnawing on his arm. Grub chuckled.

"Sounds like, if anything, he'll stop you from interfering."

Hiccup gave up his struggles and started to just stroke his dragon's snout. The dragon responded likewise by settling his head into the rider's lap with a deep sigh that slid into a purr. Grub always found the interactions between this rider and his dragon to be so interesting. It was plain to see that the dragon was never at a loss of ability to assert his dominance, yet he found this peculiar balance between asserting his own objections and elevating his rider as an equal or, even, the leader of the pair. It all carried a distinct sense of regal dignity.

Grub suddenly noticed that the dragon's tail was curled around to the side and extended out past his rider. There was no way it ended up there by chance, so he decided to try to accept the invitation. He wondered if, maybe, just maybe, if he couldn't touch the dragon's snout, then maybe the tail. He inched over, walking his fingers across the dirt as he did so, toward the tail. He saw the dragon flick his eyes over before going back to pretending to not notice.

He tried to control his breathing. The tail was right there in all of its maimed glory. The orange glow of the flickering flames danced along the edges of the black scales and in the folded membrane of the fin. It was almost too dark to see the fine gray line between the scales that marked the scar where the other fin had torn off.

He thought about Hauk, who had changed so much the moment he touched the dragon. Grub reached his fingertips forward and tried to imagine that this was just another tail connected to another dead dragon he had to field dress back on his island.

 _And so the silly Greenbelly got over himself and learned to befriend dragons. He then rescued the princess, mounted his winged steed, and flew into the sunset. The end._

When his fingers were about to touch, it hit him again, but this time, so much worse. Just past his fingertips, he didn't see a dragon. He didn't see the young rider. He saw blood. He saw fire. He saw death.

He saw _them_.

He saw his beloved five-year-old daughter, Matilda, running, screaming in terror, flames fanning from her back. The Monstrous Nightmare that had set her ablaze pounced and crushed her under its talons. Grub had managed to slide his sword in between the scales and through its throat, but that didn't bring her back.

He saw his youngest son, Orn, only two years old. Grub was swamped in Terrible Terrors. He was a formidable foe with a blade that sang as it sliced through the beasts and a broad shield that repelled claw and fire alike, but it wasn't enough. One of the little devils wrapped its teeth around the child's neck and tore him to pieces. Grub killed several Terrors before they all fled that night, but it didn't bring back his son.

He saw his sweet Inga, only seven, impaled through the torso with a Nadder quill. She valiantly fought to protect Orn with her life, all alone because her mother was already gone and her father was encumbered with many Terrors. Grub's arrows killed the Nadder that claimed Inga's life, but she died a slow and painful death that night as the venom leached the life from her body.

He saw his eldest, Kol, surrounded by dragons of all sorts on that fateful night during the last raid. Kol was, without a doubt, the bravest ten-year-old the world has ever seen. There was no such thing as a safe place to hide that night, but he never gave up in his struggle to survive through quills and claws. He fought valiantly and died with a smile on his face.

No father should ever have to bury his own children. That would be a fate Grub wouldn't wish on even his worst enemies. He loved his family so dearly and would have sooner died than allow any of them to suffer. He tried so hard to protect them but always failed.

The dragons took them all away. He had given his wife his soul. His children, his heart. Little value in life was left behind because all that he had given died with them. They were gone. All of them. Ripped from this world by fang and fire.

 _Dead!_

 _Dead!_

 _Dead!_

 _Dead!_

Suddenly, Grub noticed he was quite a bit farther from the Night Fury then an instant ago. His sore thighs and the dirt encrusted in the palms of his hands told the tale of a frantic crab-walk away from the dragon. He felt drained and had to sit. The ever-faithful Rusty barked and nuzzled his face and he wrapped his shaking arms around the dog, pulling him in tight. Hiccup was up on one knee, hand braced against his dragon, which was howling at the black sky above.

Grub wasn't even sure whether or not he successfully touched the dragon this time. Hiccup just stared with a slack jaw as he clutched at the dragon's broad neck. After a while, the howls and barking died down. A few people who were still outside cast their attention over at the sudden commotion.

Hiccup cast a pained, sympathetic look over and said, "Grub, I'm so sorry for your loss. I... if you can't get yourself to approach a dragon, I have no right to blame you for..."

He trailed off when he noticed Grub was glaring icy daggers at him.

"You _said_ dragons cannot read a person's mind."

Hiccup seemed unphased by the accusation. "And I wasn't lying. If your mind is a lake and your thoughts are fish, then Toothless cannot dive in. Sure, if a fish comes up near the surface, he can see a shadow and know that there's something there, maybe even what type of fish it is. Sometimes, a fish jumps out of the water and then you can see it in detail for a brief instant. That's what just happened – not that Toothless was trying to snoop, but it was really hard not to notice when the metaphorical fish just jumps up and slaps you in the face. He didn't see much, though, only feelings, dread, fear, anger, grief, a broken heart. And loss. Terrible loss that would break most men."

Grub let out a long hiss of air as he buried his face in his dog's side. He would not allow himself to cry. Not here. Not now.

"I loved them all so dearly. If I died a _thousand_ torturous deaths so _one_ of them would be alive today, I would be singing and dancing in whatever place the gods see fit to drag me. But... this..." Grub struggled to control his shuddering breaths. "What sort of failure of a man can't even protect his own?"

At length, Hiccup choked out, "I'm so sorry."

He meant it and it killed him that there was absolutely nothing he could think to say or do to make it any better. What good were satire and wit when even this tiniest little glimpse of what Toothless had shared from what he saw a moment ago made Hiccup realize how pathetic it would be to compare to his own losses. He was an infant when he lost his mother and what is a stupid leg compared to a man's family. The amount of hurt Grub carried with him was a weight that was worlds beyond anything Hiccup could comprehend.

"I doubt," Grub said in a muffled voice through his dog's side, "that I'll even get a boat to take me back home. My tribe doesn't have anything that can make the trip and the Hysterics surely won't send anything since both from their tribe already have dragons."

"Surely they can't ignore you. You're the heir... You _did_ say your father was the chief, right? No, wait, _you_ are the chief, then, since your father..." Hiccup suddenly lost the will to finish his sentence. Grub snorted dismissively.

"We don't have a need for a chief with how few of us are still alive. We all agreed that a small council of the few elders we still have was more than enough oversight for such a small band of farmers, shepherds, and craftsmen. I'm just insurance; nothing more."

"Well I would be more than happy to take... you..."

Hiccup trailed off as he realized the probability of Grub ever getting on a dragon without a massive nervous breakdown.

Hmmmmm..." Hiccup scratched his chin in thought. A grin formed on his face. "I could get some herbs from Gothi and give you something that will knock you out. I mean," he thumped his prosthetic leg against the dirt, "the stuff she can brew could keep you under until Spring. Your next waking thought will be on your own island and we can pretend you weren't carried there by a dragon."

Grub sighed as he peeled his face away from his dog. He bit back any tears and stomped out the embers of emotion weighing on his heart.

"One day at a time, I guess. Oh, and Toothless..."

The dragon craned his neck around to stare. A sad groan escaped him and Grub flashed a quick, grateful smile.

"Thank you... and... sorry about that fishy slap in the face."

With that, Grub stood, snagged up his pack that was lying nearby, and shot off into the woods.

"Where are you going?" Hiccup shouted after him. "You're not going to fight that Nadder!"

"I'm tired," Grub shot over his shoulder. "Haven't had a wink since all the dragons moved in."

As Grub disappeared past the treeline and into the darkness, Hiccup got up to run after him but was stopped by a black tail that was suddenly in his way. He batted at it and tried to go around. Toothless made no further attempt to stop him, but simply whined plaintively.

 _{I will not stop you if you really decide to go after him. I will chase him down and drag him back if that is what you want, but I think we really should just let him go.}_

Hiccup's heart sank and he suddenly felt robbed of all energy. He collapsed into his dragon and wrapped his arms around the scaly neck.

"What do I do, Bud? It hurts so bad to try so hard, only to fail."

His mind flashed over to Tolerant. He had tried so hard to stop the fighting between that Night Fury and Skrill, but ended up getting the father of his own best friend killed. That attempt to stop the fighting resulted in blood that Hiccup felt was on his own hands, despite his dragon's vehement disagreement. Now, his attempt at bringing dragons and Vikings together on this island would spill more blood, be it the Nadder's or Grub's.

Or both.

Any hope that Toothless didn't catch on to where his mind had drifted was squashed when his arm was suddenly clamped tight in a gummy maw and the dragon gave a warning growl. Toothless was lenient of many things from his rider, but self-depreciation was not one of them.

 _{Are you referring to yourself, Tolerant, or that land-strider?}_

"What makes you think I was referring to Tolerant?"

Toothless projected an image of a fish jumping out of a lake and slapping him in the face with its tail. Hiccup sighed as he sauntered toward the longhouses.

The dragon gave his rider a lick on the face. _{You worry too much. Relax.}_

"But I can't just let Grub- MMMPH!"

Toothless gave another lick to his rider's face, with extra slobber this time.

 _{That was an order.}_

Hiccup wiped the saliva off his face and grinned at his dragon. "Yessir. I'll try."

* * *

 **A/N:**  
Thanks for reading! Also, thanks for dropping a line, 10Blue10. Yeah, Hiccup is a hopeless romantic lol.

Also, sorry this update took longer than most. Life and stuff happened. New job, new city, new place.

Oh, and I think I'll have Grub and the emerald-green Nadder come to blows next chapter. Place your bets on who will win. Then again, maybe I'll just kill 'em both and you can't stop me! Muahahahahahahahaaaa- *GASP* *COUGH*. Man, how do arch-villains do that evil laugh without dying? They must drink molasses like it's water.


	16. Dead Past

**Dead Past**

FWISH THUNK

Shh shh shh shh shh shh shh shh shh shh shh shh

FWISH THUNK

Shh shh shh shh shh

 _If there's one thing consistent with all land-striders, they never look up_ , the dragon mused to himself as he looked down from his perch. Below him was a lone land-strider who was shooting a wooden quill into embankments of dirt before shuffling along to retrieve it with his pet dog was prancing along at his side. The ever-present covering of leaves made it easy to track his movements by sound alone, even though he was partially obscured by the dense fog that filled the forest. The pre-dawn light was enough to make him easy to spot, though, whenever he shuffled closer.

The dragon idly watched as the land-strider below drew back in a motion he learned preceded the wooden quill impaling another mound of dirt...

FWISH THUNK

… just like it impaled his mate.

Shh shh shh shh shh shh shh shh

Of course, for the past couple days, Firefly had pleaded with the dragon – from a distance as Toothless wisely wouldn't let him get too close – not to attack the miserable creature shuffling around below. That land-strider down there was the cause of all misery in life. He was never controlled. He acted of his own free will. He had the luxury of choice. He _chose_ to kill the dragon's mate.

And, yet, the dragon couldn't understand why he was still perched up here on a high branch of a massive tree instead of down there attacking that miserable rodent. He had already decided on a course of action. Wait until the land-strider was alone. Swoop in on him. End the pain. Simplicity itself.

FWISH THUNK

The loss of his mate was a misery he was anxious to end by any means possible. Way back when the demonic queen was killed and all the dragons were released from her mind snare, he had tried to drown his sorrows in the ocean, but his body refused to cooperate. For two cycles of the leaves falling and growing back on the trees, he lived with this grief. He tried to strike down the source of his grief the day he landed on this island, but the other dragons and land-striders intervened.

Shh shh shh shh shh shh shh shh

Now that they were alone and there was nobody around to interfere, his body protested his own will. Again. It was as if that demonic queen had left behind a little bug that burrowed into his own mind, subjecting himself to a will that was not his own. His burning desire to strike down that _thing_ shuffling around in the leaves was met by an even stronger hesitation. It was all so infuriating and made the dragon feel so entirely helpless.

FWISH

Just as helpless as he felt when he watched his mate die with a wooden quill sticking through her head.

THUD!

The dragon reflexively lurched to the side before he even realized what had happened. He barely had time to see one of the land-strider's wooden quills stuck into the trunk of the tree right next to his head, its tail-end quivering back and forth from the impact, before his shock caused him to loosen his hold and wobble backward. A frantic thrust of wing pushed him forward so that he could swoop down away from the tree instead of awkwardly falling to the ground, bouncing off every branch on the way down. Now he realized what he was waiting for – something to spur his body to obedience.

He knew better than to dive straight at the land-strider. They were smart and always seemed to have an assortment of long and sharp things to jab at a descending dragon. Instead, he shot down with an enraged screech and landed hard off to the side, his impact sending a spray of muddy water from the saturated forest floor. He dug his talons into the soft ground and whirled around to face the land-strider that caused so much hurt, quills extended on a tail that lashed back and forth angrily.

Something was off, though. One does not survive so many raids without learning to observe and think instead of acting on impulse alone. Aside from the fact that the dog was only crouching and growling, waiting on his master, it was clear the land-strider wasn't attacking, yet. The dragon had seen enough of those land-strider's shiny claws to recognize that it was still tucked away against the creature's leg. The hide-covered part they always hold with their soft little talons stuck out, inviting the land-strider to pull it out and strike, but he made no move for it. He had that stick with the taut vine they use to shoot their wooden quills, but he was not using that, either. He just stood there, jaw clenched in a hard glare. The dragon glared right back with all the fiery anger burning in his body.

Even through all his anger, the dragon struggled to keep the fatigued wobble out of his stance. Even that short glide made him feel winded. It wasn't until now that he realized just how fully expended he was. He had never been able to sleep at all since he landed on this island. Every time he closed his eyes, he only saw his mate dying. He saw the cold, hateful glare of the land-strider that took her life.

On closer inspection, the land-strider appeared to be in the same condition. There were wrinkles in the skin below his eyes that the other land-striders didn't have. Aside from that, it was just plain to see from his general appearance – his sagging posture, the acrid overtones in his scent, his mental hum. It all sagged with the weight of pain and exhaustion.

For what felt like days, they just stared, each waiting for the other to make a move. The dragon knew he had the advantage. One flick of his tail would send quills into the fool. His horns and teeth were ready to disembowel. The land-strider had yet to reach for his shiny claw that made them so dangerous and it would take a fatal moment to wield it.

Shhh... shhh... shhh...

Apparently, the only movement each adversary allowed himself was to pace around the other. Even the dog joined the two in this most unusual dance.

The dragon knew why he didn't strike yet, but had no clue why the land-strider made no move. He quickly grew impatient.

Shhhh... shhhh... shhhh...

Finally, the dragon broke the staring contest by lurching forward. He swept his large head to the side, knocking the land-strider to the ground, but he quickly rolled over and jumped to a crouch.

Shhh... shhhh... shhhh...

Again, more staring and pacing around each other.

The dragon took a hop forward as he swept his tail into his opponent's leg, who fell from the impact. He then stepped on the downed land-strider, grasping his torso in his long talons and tossed him to the side. The telltale stiffness against his claws of hide protecting the land-strider gave way to a very faint release in that motion and a trace of blood coming from the land-strider's side as he scrambled to his feet and pulled out his shiny claw.

 _Finally!_

Without a second thought, the dragon carried out the second part of his plan. He hissed and snapped at the land-strider, who waved his shiny claw about. They lunged at each other, twisting about and dodging each other's blows.

When the dragon was satisfied that his life was in mortal danger, he flopped over onto his back. The soft ground grabbed at the horns that crowned his head to greatly limit his mobility. He simply lay there, sprawled out, waiting.

This was the conclusion of his grand scheme. The land-strider did not deserve peace. He did not deserve to be released from his pain. No, the dragon was actually quite proud of himself for coming up with this plan to make his own adversary release _him_ from this suffering. Ever since the loss of his bonded mate, his grief only worsened. His attempts to take his own life had failed, so if his own body would not cooperate, then maybe, just maybe, he could make the land-strider carry out his wishes.

…

Shhh shhh shhh shhh

The dragon felt the hard edge of the shiny claw against his throat. It skittered across the hard scales. However, there was no pain. He realized the shiny claw was only lightly dragging along. It was obvious the land-strider didn't feel threatened enough, but the dragon decided to wait a little longer before trying again.

…

Shh shh shh

Doubt started to rise up in his mind. This was not how he planned things to go at all.

A squawk was torn from his maw when he felt a hard kick to the side of his belly.

 _That little devil!_

Finally, the dragon felt the cold, hard, shiny claw poke at his side. He waited for it to be thrust in deeper as it was clearly a fairly sizable claw. Those land-striders like to shove it in as deep as they can and violently wiggle it around to cut a dragon's insides to shreds. However, it never happened.

Another poke. It hurt, but it wasn't enough. He gagged as he felt what must have been the flat part of the shiny claw slam into the bottom of his neck.

 _That's not how you use that thing!_

The dragon angrily rolled over and leaped to his feet. His blood boiled as he lashed out against the land-strider, who deftly dodged to the side. A swing of the shiny claw glanced off scales. A tail whipped through the air and was met with only more empty air. A thrust of the shiny claw was deflected by the spikes on the dragon's head. Teeth snapped forward, sinking into the empty space that once held the land-strider's head. The dog grabbed onto the dragon's leg, only to be completely ignored and shaken off in a lunge to the side.

The last movement put some space between the two. The dragon dug his claws in deep and charged forward, lowering and widening his stance in preparation to respond to a tumble to the side. What he was completely unprepared for, though, was for the land-strider to toss his shiny claw to the side and kneel with a dead look in his eyes as he stared down at the dead leaves.

 _Oh no you don't!_

It took the entirety of his focus of will to resist the urge to take this easy kill. That would ruin everything! Instead, the dragon fluttered his wings and stumbled over himself – and the land-strider. He made sure to kick that little rodent over with the smooth backs of his talons on his way down before rolling back to a crouch to whirl around with an angry screech as, yet again, he was caught completely by surprise. The land-strider was just kneeling there, shuddering, laughing.

Laughing!

It started as a slow, sobbing sort of labored breathing, but built up into a roaring howl. The land-strider pounded the ground in mirth, each impact sending up a spray of muddy water. The dragon huffed and kicked at him.

He had to admit that if he wasn't so angry at the land-strider for trying to turn his masterful plan around, he too would have been chortling at the scene. Both of them looked downright pathetic, completely covered in mud, wobbling with each exhausted step, little trickles of blood present on both adversaries. They both knew that each was responsible for the other's misery, so they both attacked each other to try to get himself killed. If it wasn't funny, then at least it was downright silly. They had both failed at doing what so many others had done so effortlessly in the past.

As the land-strider wobbled up on his legs, only to collapse back to his knees, the dragon collapsed into a nest of leaves and dropped his head to the ground. Suddenly, he realized the creature was talking. It was the usual sing-song, guttural sounds, but they were pushed out slowly, thoughtfully. As usual, the projected thoughts splashed around, but the dragon gathered that the message was something about land-striders and death.

 _{Yes, you killed my mate, you miserable little land-strider.}_

The dragon knew this creature couldn't hear him, but decided to engage in this fairly one-sided conversation anyway. He stared blankly at the land-strider, who paused, then spoke again, saying something about the dragon and killing.

 _{Yes, I have killed, too. I can recall the scent and taste of blood from that night. It was someone related to you by blood, perhaps your sire. We have done a fantastic job at making life miserable for each other.}_

The land-strider shook his head at what was apparently dissatisfactory body language and tried again. The dragon finally understood what he was trying to say. _{How many land-striders have you killed?}_

How would one even try to communicate that to a land-strider? This one, like so many others, was deaf to projected thoughts, even if they had physical contact – and there was no way that _thing_ was going to touch his scales unless it was to kill!

Still, as exhaustion tugged at him, the dragon figured there was nothing better to do than reminisce about death with his adversary that he could neither kill nor get killed by. How to communicate with him, though, was a mystery. These creatures even _count_ differently!

THUMP!

The land-strider's head jerked up and the dragon realized that idly allowing his tail fall to the ground just solved one of today's mysteries.

If that thump of his tail was a land-strider he killed, then it would have been the first. That would have been... many winters ago. Less than the number of teeth in his mouth, but more than the number of horns on his head. It was his first kill. It was frantic, desperate, and messy.

A land-strider had hacked off the head of the dragon's dam with a broad shiny claw. She had taught him many things since he first cracked his egg. Of all the other dragons from her clutch, he was the last to fly. While everyone else was swooping and diving for fish on their own, he was land-bound. That is, he was land-bound _until_ she grabbed his little body in her talons and flew him high in the sky.

That was when he learned his most valuable lessons as he plummeted through the clouds and toward the choppy and unforgiving waters below. First, you need to flap your wings in order to fly. You will never succeed if you never try.

Second, sometimes, all it takes to push someone to action was just a bit of danger. Action is the natural reflex to realizing the cost of inaction.

Lastly, if you cannot face your fears, then you will be destroyed by them.

The young emerald-green dragon faced his fears when he flapped his wings for the first time in his life and also when he attacked the land-strider that killed his dam. He acknowledged the consequence for failure as he watched her head and body fall in different directions. He took action as it dawned on him what exactly his hesitancy to act had caused. He rose to the threat and his adversary fell. Life is simple, sometimes, if not brutal; death even moreso.

The mind would always linger for a short while, even after the head is lopped off. As her disembodied head fell to the ground, she taught him one last lesson before her mind faded away forever. It was a lesson the dragon wished with all his heart that he could forget, just for today.

To pursue vengeance is to embrace futility.

THUMP!

It was really hard to take that lesson to heart, at first. The other land-striders had stumbled back in horror when he wrapped his teeth around the neck of the one that beheaded his dam. As happy as they were to see a dragon get beheaded, it made them all drop their guard when it happened to one of their own.

THUMP!

Such a distraction was costly for them.

THUMP!

A quill found a nearby land-strider's neck.

THUMP!

Then a gout of fire.

THUMP!

The last land-strider in that group discovered that dragons are heavy and their claws sharp. He didn't get to revel in such newfound understanding for long.

Perhaps that was one lesson the land-striders have taught the dragon. He who hesitates is dead.

He had gone a long time after that without killing any land-striders. Sure, he had set some of their wooden nests on fire and caused general chaos. The queen wanted food more than anything else, so they focused on just snatching the animals and flying out. With the assistance and coordination provided by the black dragon that he now recognized to be Toothless, there was great success and the demonic queen thrived.

Over time, though, it became apparent that some islands, one in particular, made it hard to stay coordinated. The dragons were forced to disperse and fend for themselves during the raids. On this island, the land-striders always fought in the dense forest, attacking from a distance instead of relying mainly on the shiny claws the other land-striders favored. Their wooden quills were particularly deadly, it seemed, compared to the quills that grew on other islands.

Thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump.

The light, rapid tapping of his tail was a real prize that ended his period of focusing on stealing food instead of killing. Well, many _little_ prizes. The queen was fuming mad at having lost her prized black dragon. She didn't want food. She wanted vengeance. The deadly adder was so lost to rage with all the death he had seen around him that when he stumbled upon several young, little, defenseless land-striders, there was no hesitation. There was no mercy. There was only fire and death.

The dragon could remember every tiny little detail and, looking back on it, he felt no pride for killing those helpless little things. Dragons are efficient and unapologetic, but this was nothing short of madness and malice. It was just a waste, really, to kill them and leave their flesh for carrion.

THUMP!

The dragon gave a pointed stare at the land-strider. That would have been his sire. It was foolish, really. The dragon's mate wanted to help him with that kill, but he refused and shoved her out of the way to go after it himself. He was so filled with bloodlust and pride that he felt he had to do it alone. He almost died when he took that broad shiny claw to his leg. The scar was still present today, a constant reminder of the price one pays for pride.

Then it hit him.

The dragon slammed his head to the ground as realization dawned. This land-strider did not kill his mate. The land-strider could not take the blame any more than his wooden quill. No, the dragon realized that he himself killed his mate. His pride killed her. They were bonded. They recognized the superior breeding in each other. He would give her many strong eggs that would grow healthy dragons. When he put himself in that situation, she really had only one acceptable response. She asserted herself into the situation and defended him instead of allowing him to die the foolish death he deserved and it cost her life.

He gave a poignant look at the land-strider and sprawled out on his side with his neck stretched out to expose his throat. It was one final, desperate plea for the land-strider to end his misery. The land-strider had his shiny claw and was breathing hard through forced breaths. The dragon idly watched as the land-strider stood over him. He let out a sigh and closed his eyes. She did not deserve to die for his own foolishness. So much had been lost and the fact that he could only blame himself made life all the more torturous. Maybe, now, things will be made right.

He heard the shiny claw sink into something. Since he wasn't dead and, in fact, didn't feel any pain aside from the few small cuts the land-strider had already given him, the dragon craned his neck around to look. The shiny claw had sunk into the ground just next to him. The land-strider stumbled back and collapsed into a sitting position, staring at the dragon.

Suddenly, from the depths of shame and grief, a sinister curiosity welled up. The dragon rose up to tower over the land-strider and slammed his tail into the ground.

THUMP!

The land-strider looked up at him with deadened eyes.

 _{What about you, land-strider?}_

THUMP!

 _{How many dragons have_ you _killed?}_

THUMP!

 _{Tell me!}_

The land-strider seemed to get the point as he leaned back and looked up at the dragon. With one of his upper limbs, he supported his torso upright while, with the other, he struck the tip of one of his little talons against the soft base of another, making a sharp sound. He did it again and again. This must be _his_ way of counting.

And counting.

And counting.

It was almost disappointing that he counted higher than the dragon. Finally, he finished as he heaved out a great sigh and just sat there. It was almost funny to see him extend his neck out a little, like he too was inviting the dragon to end his miserable little life. He even leaned onto his dog, pressing the animal's head to the ground as if to assure the dragon that the little ball of fur with adorable little teeth would not be allowed to interfere.

He would receive no such release, though. He eventually realized this and flopped down to his side and the two just settled into staring at each other. Both of them had accepted that nobody would die today and it was time to figure out how to work through the grief. The land-strider reached out toward the dragon, but withdrew at a warning hiss.

 _{I am not Toothless and you are not Firefly. What do you think you're doing?}_

It did feel better, though, to know that someone else hurt as much as he did. Though he didn't get the release from the pain he sought, the intensity had softened. Apparently, it also brought him some measure of peace as the last thing he noticed before darkness overtook him was that the sun was starting to rise in the sky to burn away the fog.

########

* * *

########

"Aaaargh! This is _torture_!"

Hauk glanced over at the fuming Hiccup with a bored look. Such a distraction happened to come at a very inopportune moment, which was immediately followed by crashing to the ground as a great weight was thrown into the back of his shoulders, grinding him into the leaves. He propped his chin up on one of his massive forearms to look up at the other rider.

"Nah, this ain't torture at all. I'm rather enjoying what your dragon is doing to me. Actually, a little lower if you would, Mr. T."

The Night Fury, probably unsure of whatever projected thoughts or speaking without words or whatever Hauk wasn't particularly focused on, gave a confused little chirp and playfully thumped a paw on his back.

"You know what I mean!" Hiccup snapped, clearly in no mood for fun and games.

While Hiccup didn't feel like playing, Toothless definitely did, so Hauk was happy to fill the void. After all, they had wrestled around several times in the past couple days and Hiccup seemed all for it. Even Hauk's eminently friendly Timberjack nudged him toward the Night Fury on occasion, content to simply watch them play. Both the new rider and dragon had learned from that first day how dangerous it can be to forget how… sharp... that dragon is. She was as gentle as she was playful, but her wings, tail – heck, even her neck contributed some major lacerations that barely missed some major arteries. It sorta made everything a little more difficult, like coming up with sleeping arrangements for a very large dragon that cuts in twain anything she touches in the already crowded longhouses. Hauk decided to sleep with her in the corner just like Hiccup slept with Toothless, ignoring the concerns they voiced. Fortunately, she was as still as a rock throughout the night and never tossed or turned the way Gronckles and Nadders did.

The pair had already enjoyed a long morning of flying in a pattern that Hauk was learning enabled her to fly very far with little effort, where she would lock her wings, swoop down to skim over the water, soar up to let the winds give them altitude, swoop down where the wind was slower, and repeat forever. The dragon barely had to do any work beyond using the very tips of her wings to control their path, allowing the wind to do all the work. Hauk's strength was not limited only to his limbs, but his abdomen burned from leaning with the dragon for so long.

It was funny to think that, only three days ago, if anyone told him that he would be rolling around on the ground with a dragon, having the time of his life, he would have knocked their head off their shoulders for being so silly. He wasn't Grub, but it had been so hard to see dragons as anything _other_ than mindless killers. The moment he touched Toothless, though, _everything_ changed. After that initial contact, it was obvious the dragon wouldn't hurt him because... well, he hadn't, yet. Everything sorta just… snowballed from there.

Just last night, to the amazement of the Hooligan riders, he invented dragon dancing. When someone pulled out the drum and started banging out a beat, he dragged his similarly-mannered dragon forward and started to just shuffle and hop around her, throwing his hands in the air, completely oblivious to how embarrassed he probably should have felt. To his absolute delight, the dragon started to sway and bounce with him and even added her own chirps and warbles to his shouting and singing. That ended all too quickly, though, when she almost – but not quite – lopped off a head and ended up retreating to curl up.

 _Poor thing._

Undaunted, Hauk had tossed various riders at their dragons – literally – and tried to get them to join him. The Terrors hopped around and on people, trying to figure out what sort of game this was and how to win. Most riders resisted, but they were just _boring_. The Thorston twins and the two younger Burglars, with their Nightmare and Nadder, proved to be wonderful exceptions, though. The way Ruffnut's hips and hair swayed was just so... mesmerizing... flowing like... a river...

Hauk shook himself back to reality. Yes, dancing, flying, and now, again, wrestling with a dragon that was playfully thumping his back. Hauk wondered if maybe, someday, he could teach the Night Fury how to give a proper back massage as a way of giving back whenever he tackles somebody.

Life just could not get any better. It was all thanks to Hiccup, but the boy was pouting, miserable, just because of something beyond his control. If there was a drum nearby, Hauk would have been tempted to throw the rider at his dragon and hack out a beat. Toothless probably would have gone along with the ploy and prodded his rider along as he absolutely _hates_ it when Hiccup is upset. Distracting Hiccup was actually the main reason Hauk tackled Toothless in the first place.

The burly rider rolled his eyes as he flipped over when the dragon pulled his paw back to thump him again. He swept a massive arm across his chest to knock both of Toothless' front legs out from under him, rolling with the motion so that the dragon collapsed to the ground next to him. It was actually something Stoick had taught him that first day he touched Toothless and started playing with him. Dragons had the majority of their leg strength focused on pushing down and back, but little side-to-side. Fishlegs was always too timid to wrestle with a dragon like this and Stoick was always, well, stoic, so Toothless was learning to adapt to the new experience of playing with a Viking so large.

Hauk quickly sprang to his feet and took a few steps over to Hiccup's side. Toothless grabbed his arm with a playful snarl and started to pull him down, but stopped as he noticed that his rider wasn't just upset. No, Hiccup was downright miserable. Hauk wanted to play some more, too, as it was very therapeutic, but it was clear Hiccup was really bothered by something and had a strong suspicion what it was.

"Just let it go, Hic. It's none of your concern."

"Let it- let it go?!" Hiccup shouted as he flailed his arms around - a habit Hauk noticed when he was irritated by something. Toothless took that motion as an open invitation to gnaw on one of his arms with his gummy maw. Hiccup didn't even seem to notice. "How can you say that?! He's from _your_ tribe! Do you have no _concern_ for him!"

"To imply I don't would be to tread on thin ice!" Hauk snapped. Both Hiccup and Toothless stiffened at the sudden venom in his voice. Hauk sighed and closed his eyes.

"I do care," he said, softly. "I've been saved by Grub's arrows more than once. He has _always_ looked after me when I grew up and, when my parents died, took me under his wing. He's like a father to me."

Hiccup was rubbing his dragon's tongue by now. Toothless rolled his eyes up and was huffing contentedly, sticking his tongue out farther to encourage his rider to keep it up.

"Then how can you be so... so..." Hiccup started flailing his arm, gesturing at all of Hauk. "This! Unconcerned. No no, not that. Ummm, _calm_. I mean, he was safe here with us, but now he could very well _die_ out there. If that Nadder and Grub really fight-"

"Then may the gods have mercy on that Nadder."

"Maybe it's bad no matter _who_ dies. Maybe I'm just as concerned for the Nadder as much as Grub."

"Well, then it's _their_ fight, not yours. It's obvious they have some sort of history and they need to deal with the past."

Hiccup flailed his arms in a shrug. "That's stupid! Sorry, but it is."

Hauk shrugged. "You can't run from the past, only live with it or take it head-on. Grub and that Nadder seem to have both settled on a way to face their past, like it or not."

"The past is _dead_!" Hiccup snarled.

"Hardly. That past defines who you _are_. You are a product of your past. It is very much alive."

Hiccup pulled his hand out of the Night Fury's mouth, who groaned plaintively at the withdrawal of attention. He bent down and picked up a handful of leaves, holding the fistful out at Hauk.

"I once read in a book that we can learn a lot from trees," Hiccup said. "You see this? This is the tree's past. Trees shed what doesn't help them. These leaves once served a purpose, but now they are useless, so they are thrown to the ground. Discarded. Left behind."

He let the leaves flutter out of his hand in the breeze. "Trees shed their dead past. That's why trees grow big and strong. That's why a tree can outlast you and me and our great-great grandchildren. They shed death and put aside the past. Grub needs to learn to do the same, just like everybody else."

Hauk idly snatched up one of the last leaves that were blown out of Hiccup's hand and held it up thoughtfully.

"I'm not that good at reading and I haven't learned from the same fancy books as you, but I _have_ gleaned a bit here and there from those much wiser than I. An old woman once told me something interesting. Tell me, master rider, where does this leaf end up after the tree gets rid of it?"

Hiccup scowled at the gaudy reference to himself. He had long since made known his disposition to being called "dragon master", but Hauk found it amusing to come up with not-quite-as-flowery titles for the rider.

"It ends up on the ground, trampled underfoot. It's where the dead past belongs," Hiccup ground out.

"Does its journey really _end_ there?"

"Huh?" Hiccup crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, clearly not in the mood for the impending debate foreshadowed by the lilt in Hauk's voice. "Ohhhhhhhh, I see what you're doing, here."

Hauk idly twirled the leaf between his thumb and forefinger. "I cannot contest your book. It's absolutely right. This leaf is dead, expended, discarded, but that's not the end. It gets ground up, soaked in the rain, eaten by worms and bugs, crapped out into the soil, absorbed into the trees, and become new leaves. Maybe even flowers or nuts or fruit that will get eaten and become a part of _you_. It could become part of Toothless' next tail fin. That leaf's dead past could be _your_ future. It's going to be some _thing_ or some _body's_ future for sure."

The fingers relaxed and the leaf was whisked away in the wind.

"Fine!" Again, Hiccup went back to waving his arms around in frustration. Again, Toothless saw only another open invitation to clamp down on. "Bad example."

"No, not bad example." Hauk smiled. " _Good_ example. You're absolutely _right_. Trees shed death, be it leaves or flower petals or torn, overused branches. They get rid of it, but it always comes back. That which they cast off is taken up again. And that's not all. You know the main reason trees last so long?"

Hiccup sighed and deflated. "Hit me."

Hauk held his hand in front of his face inquisitively, then cast a doubtful look past it to Hiccup, who made a face.

"I will glare at you _so_ hard..."

Huak chuckled. "Right, so trees. They are _strengthened_ by death. What living part is there to a tree but the thin... uhhhh, that thin white or green layer... you girdle a tree by cutting through it all the way around... it tastes funny, kinda sweet... ummmm..."

"You eat the cambium?!"

Hauk snapped his fingers. "Ah! Yes, cambium. It's the only _living_ part of a tree, really. It's wrapped around dead heartwood on the _inside_ , enfolded by dead bark on the _outside_. Trees don't get rid of their dead past. They _embrace_ it. They are _strengthened_ by it. Trees don't just put the dead weight behind them. They grow around it and _use_ it to become strong and resilient."

A little smile wormed its way onto Hiccup's face. It was a smile he wished he could wipe off, judging by how he suddenly turned to his dragon as if to inspect the scales in close detail while he gave scratches to the snout.

Hiccup said, "So this old lady was saying to build around your past, take your problems head-on, see your problems as challenges to overcome, something like that?"

"That's where her lesson ended. My own ending that I'm adding is that if there's something you don't like about your past, don't get rid of it. Just shoot it down and build a tailfin for it."

Hiccup turned to look back at Hauk with a wry grin. "I'd have Toothless jump you for saying that, but I won't because I know you'd like it."

"Just calling it as I see it."

"I'll admit... I can see why you call that old lady wise. She should write a book if she has more of that sort of wisdom."

Grub gave a light sigh. "I'm afraid that's no longer an option. Perhaps, someday, I'll get better at reading and writing so I can put down the little bits she's shared with me."

"... Sorry."

"Not your fault, nor your burden to bear."

Hiccup turned to face Hauk and almost stumbled as Toothless dashed off somewhere. "That still doesn't solve our current problem with one pissed-off Nadder and one insane Viking with a death wish."

" _Unless_ it isn't _our_ problem in the first place," Hauk said resolutely. "I, for one, don't think that Grub's dead past will consume him. I know him well. He's one tough nut."

"If that dragon gets killed, it would be _my_ fault and _that_ bothers me. I, too, have some advice to share that I heard from an old, wise-"

Hiccup was cut off by a warning bark from his dragon, who skidded to a stop in front of him. Before he could even voice his surprise and annoyance at having been interrupted, Toothless slammed him to the side, narrowly avoiding a few blurs that dashed past. He quickly scrambled to his feet and looked over to see Hauk leap at one of the blurs, which focused into a form of a mud-splattered emerald Green Nadder that huffed and hissed as he stumbled to the side, only to resume his headlong sprint. Rusty was chasing the dragon, barking and snapping at its legs. Only a few frantic paces ahead, Grub was running away full-tilt.

"Great," Hiccup groaned. "Just... great."

* * *

 **A/N:  
** "And then Grub and the Nadder fought and both of them died. The end. Muahahahahaaaaaaaaa-"

*Cough* *Wheeze*

"Ahhhck! Nope, still can't do evil laughs- Gah! Toothless, watch where you're going. Also, you're back. Also, this must explain why everything I'm saying is in quotes again."

*Pant*

"Run, Fizzy, run! They're pissed off and they're chasing me! No, _don't_ run. Maybe they'll stop to eat _you_ and stop chasing _me_."

"Woah woah woah, wait, Tooth, who's chasing you?"

"Smaug. He's _not_ a nice dragon and he'll be here any minute!"

"What?! Oh, gee, thanks for luring an angry dragon to me. Anything else you'd like to do for me before I get burned and eaten?"

"Well, there's also this weird magical Nordic dude with those silly horned helmets. He called out "Od-ving" or something like that and some sort of dragon came down and now he's flying _that_ dragon to chase me, too. I sorta peed on him, you see..."

"Toothless, what were you _thinking_?!"

"I dunno. Oh! On the way, I snatched up this _really cool_ looking golden egg. Apparently, the dragon that laid it didn't appreciate that and is also chasing me. And she can teleport. Frickin' _teleport_ , I tell you!"

"Oh gods. Just kill me now."

"No need, that will take care of itself if you stand here for another minute. If we escape this, I'm _totally_ gonna write the most ultimate 4-way crossover fanfic."

"What? No! That will just turn into the most awkward fluster cuck ever."

"..."

"Spoonerism."

"Lame! Uh-oh, here they come!"

"I AM FIRE! I AM DEATH"

"BO ZEK HET, HI SAHLAG LIR!"

"Come back here with Ramoth's egg, you dirty bastard! I'll drag your bleedin' corpse all the way back to Benden Wyer!"

"Oh Gods! Fiz, distract them with your face while I fly away!"

"But I-"

"FUS RO DA!"

"NYAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaa..."


	17. Here Comes the Sun

**Here Comes the Sun**

ROAAAR!

THUNK!

Crunch shhh crunch shhh crunch shhh crunch shhh

Stormfly watched a broad, shiny claw sink into a tree before her rider shuffled through the snow-covered leaves below to retrieve it. The dragon was always a little envious that her rider could literally do this all day, every day. Sure, she could shoot her own quills into trees and has done so on occasion, playing some sort of target practice game between quills and thrown broad shiny claws. However, she had only so many quills and it took time for them to grow back. Shoot out too many and the tail starts to look a little ragged.

 _Just because a dragon doesn't have long fur to spend inordinate amounts of time cleaning and arranging doesn't mean she can't have similar priorities._

ROAAAR!

Stormfly has engaged in roaring contests with her rider in times past, too. Those were fun.

THUNK!

As tempting as it was to go fetch the shiny claw from the tree – chasing things and playing catch is always so much fun! – she knew that the slow shuffle was part of her rider's routine, so she decided to simply watch from her perch on a sturdy branch.

Crunch shhh crunch shhh crunch shhh crunch

Zealot sure picked a beautiful spot for her morning activity. Waves crashed soothingly against the rocky face, far below. Here, at the very threshold of the forest, they had a splendid view of the open sky above. The sun had not yet crested the ocean, but for this very brief moment, the bottoms of the clouds above were bathed in the most mesmerizing deep red glow. The contrasting shadows on the underside, where the light could not reach, made the texture of the clouds simply pop out and demand attention.

Such a sight never lasted long as the red light would quickly grow bored of the clouds and move on, but Zealot wasn't even _noticing_ the beautiful sky. It was clear to see that she was upset about something. There was little doubt that this _something_ happened to have one-and-a-half legs and rides a black dragon.

ROAAAR!

THUNK!

Crunch shhh crunch shhh crunch shhh

 _Alright, enough is enough._

Stormfly leaned forward and swooped down to land in front of her rider. A powdery cloud of snow exploded from the ground on impact. She nuzzled her rider aggressively, trying to turn her around and toward the edge of the cliff a few wingspans past the treeline. The rider went through the usual reactions of being corralled by her dragon, starting with amusement, then irritation, then a frustrated resignation as she realized there would be no end to her dragon's insistence.

 _Is there anything more stubborn than a dragon, save the ocean itself?_

As they got close to the edge of the cliff, Stormfly bumped the back of her rider's knees until she settled down in that weird twisted leg position that was painful just to watch. The dragon nestled down and put her head right next to her rider's, tilting it to the side so one eye could look ahead. Zealot was smart and it didn't take long to catch on to what the dragon wanted and the two watched on for a while.

It was always mesmerizing to watch. There was never any perception of movement, but all too soon, the red light crept away from the clouds, as if trying to remove itself without being noticed, and spread itself across the entire sky. Eventually, the red light got scared and went away, as it always does, fleeing from the sun that was starting to peek over the ocean.

The time they spent there seemed to have the desired effect. Zealot slowly rose up and walked over to jerk her shiny claw out of the tree and looked at it thoughtfully. The time spent watching the red light come and go had her feeling much calmer and relaxed, now.

ROAAAR!

THUNK!

Apparently, not calm enough.

Crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch.

Her shuffle had turned into a trot, at least. That was always a good sign.

So often, the workings of a land-strider's mind are a very fascinating mystery. Sometimes, they can demonstrate supreme mastery over their feelings. Sometimes, they can effortlessly push aside instinct and impulse to act with pure logic and thoughtfulness. Sometimes, they exercise such control over their thoughts that one can't help but stare on in awe.

ROAAAR!

But sometimes, they can cling to their resentment like new scales cling to hide.

THUNK!

Crunch shhh crunch shhh crunch shhh crunch

An idea came to Stormfly's mind. The sun had chased the red light away from the clouds and the sky. If the red light was the rider's sullen mood, then the dragon could be the sun! With a speed that would put the sun to shame, Stormfly charged at her rider. The sullen mood stayed, but dragons don't easily give up. Maybe the sun spoke to the sky in a way dragons cannot hear to make the red light flee? Land-striders sometimes talk to the sky, particularly when they see a little light dash across the black of night. They often seem to calm down when they do that thing where they think with their lips.

 _Then again, they sometimes get angry as a result, too._

Still, it was worth a try, so Stormfly squawked and cawed and warbled in her best attempt at land-strider speech. It came out as gibberish, of course. Her own kind was particularly talented with greater vocal capabilities than most other dragons, but nothing could match a land-strider in that regard. It made Zealot actually smile, though.

 _There. Now do that forever!_

Zealot pulled her broad, shiny claw out of the tree and slowly walked along the treeline. Maybe that will help, too. After all, the sun moves and the red light flees. They could both be the sun to chase away whatever was upsetting her.

 _Flee in terror before the awesome presence of Zealot and Stormfly!_

As Zealot did her thinking with her lips, her projected thoughts splashed around in the way only a land-strider could manage. It wasn't as bad as a majority of the others, but nowhere near as focused as, say, little Firefly or Butterfly, who spent a lot of time refining such skills. Even some of the new riders, where those two were right now, have learned to project their thoughts more clearly, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that her thoughts splashed the red out of her sky.

From what the dragon could pick up from her rider, the incident with that beautiful emerald-green dragon and that land-strider who was deathly afraid of coming anywhere near any dragon was weighing on her mind. Every time she confronted that nervous land-strider about how unreasonable he was behaving, he would simply agree with her and that would only make her even madder. It bothered her that he could just acknowledge his failure to approach a dragon and calmly accept it. Such an attitude flew against everything for which Zealot stood.

What bothered her the most, though, was definitely Firefly. It bothered Zealot that, while she felt in control of her life and always knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it, Firefly always seemed to be quite the opposite.

 _{Then you choose to be sad and frustrated, Zealot?}_

Zealot grunted in complete ignorance of the dragon's projected message before she shared her recollection of a dream she had about Firefly last night. One thing that immediately stuck out as very confusing was that Zealot felt embarrassed about this dream. Why any land-strider would feel anything _other_ than pride for what their very imaginative minds could do in creating thoughts from nothing – while sleeping at that! – was a mystery. Toothless had shared about some dreams he had picked up from Firefly that taught him something very interesting about Land-striders. They don't have a specific mating season, so their hide coverings serve as more than protection from the weather, but also to control their mating urges. So, when Firefly had imagined Zealot without them, well, the black dragon said it made for an amusing morning. At least, _he_ found it amusing. His rider found it to be quite awkward.

Zealot's dream was similar in nature, judging by what she was saying. She wanted to be his mate, but also wished he was very different. One gained joy and confidence from being strong and bold and by displaying her prowess. The other found fulfillment in discouraging just that very thing. To make things worse, whenever she would confront Firefly about this and try to change his ways, she would swear her mind went blank with the way he handled her and stared into her eyes. It was like he had some way of manipulating her feelings in an unwelcome way.

Zealot even went so far as to compare Firefly to...

 _Oh, that brings back memories._

Stormfly hadn't been under the control of the demonic queen's mind snare for several winters. The days of mindless living had ended when she was captured and put in that cage of iron and stone, where the constant exposure to the chaotic projections of the land-striders scrambled the queen's control. That was actually a pretty interesting time. The land-striders fed Stormfly enough and, though very cramped, it was obvious they put some thought into the living accommodations. It was also quite entertaining to be made to fight against the young land-striders. She would chase them around, try not to injure them _too_ badly, and make their errors _painfully_ obvious. This was way back before Toothless found Firefly; back when there was absolutely no reason to hold out for any hope for a life other than this. Training those land-striders to become dragon killers was the only way to strike back at the queen and free others from that mind snare.

Stormfly would have actually been content to be killed by Zealot – who was nameless at that time. That land-strider showed such promise and potential. Her mind was quick and sharp, her body, though not the strongest, was well-honed for using her broad, shiny claw. She had such a presence of mind and the most obstinate determination to prevail over any obstacle presented. So, Stormfly made sure to take extra care to train her well. She would kill many dragons and free them from the mind snare. If it would help to bolster her confidence, then to die to that land-strider would be a good sacrifice.

Then, Toothless changed everything. Even from half the island away, he used that unique ability of his, made possible by all those sensor lobes around his head, to project his thoughts far and hear the faintest whispers from other dragons. He pleaded with the captive dragons to never harm that little Firefly. Considering the fact that Firefly had the survival instincts of a delicate flower, that proved to be quite difficult. The way he would just cringe and stand there when charged really tested Stormfly's resolve. Toothless was so hopeful, though. He was so confident that this one was different.

He was absolutely _right_!

Then Hookfang almost ruined it all by trying to kill Firefly... all because he was startled by a loud noise.

 _Males!_

Stormfly shook herself as she realized her rider was no longer comparing Firefly to the demonic queen and was now staring at her dragon, pouring off waves of regret and concern. Her anger at Firefly had turned into sympathy for her dragon who had lived so long without owning her mind. The ground beneath was all churned up from talons that gouged the snow-dusted ground. Only now did Stormfly realize she must have done that while lost in thought about the past.

But that's all it was. The past. Gone. Dead. Expired. Shed like old scales to be forgotten on the ground or, in some cases, collected by very young land-striders and attached to their hides as some sort of strange tribute.

She forced herself to relax and squeezed out a croon. It had the desired effect of calming Zealot down. Apparently, she was concerned that her dragon would do something erratic.

 _{Sometimes, I really wish you could hear me, Zealot, so I could tell you how silly you are acting. Firefly is more powerful than you realize. Not more or less powerful than my fire or your shiny claw, but it's just a different type of power. It is not the power to accomplish feats by one's own works, but to make others do what needs to be done.}_

For how talented land-striders are at seeing things before they are visible and hearing things before they make a sound, they can sometimes miss what is right in front of their noses. Firefly's power doesn't come from his body, but his mind. It was his bravery that allowed him to approach an injured and angry dragon to show him what it is like to have a friend. When Toothless was shackled down and taken to the nest on a land-strider ocean vessel, it was Firefly's commanding presence that allowed him to approach Hookfang, the very dragon that had tried to kill him earlier that very same day, and get him and the others to not only accept a rider, but also fly right back to the nest where all nightmares are hatched.

It was his subtle manipulations of others that forced Stalwart to push past his initial distrust and hatred toward Toothless, dive into the water, and release him from the shackles. Firefly _forced_ people to respect him with the gentlest pokes and prods. He can coerce others into doing _exactly_ what he wants, all while making them think they are serving their own sense of pride and dignity.

One time, he even jumped off a cliff to get his dragon to break out of his prideful stubbornness, forcing him to make an instant decision to submit to his rider's way of dealing with a particularly aggressive tunneling dragon with a grudge.

Zealot stared at her dragon and idly scratched the snout. She definitely didn't get the message. Others have tried telling her the same thing, but the one who gives a message can matter even more than the message itself.

 _Oh well._

Stormfly coiled her legs and leaped up with a couple beats of her wings to wrap her talons around a branch. She stretched out her legs and hung upside down so that her snout was right next to her rider's head. Zealot grabbed the horn at the tip of the dragon's snout and pushed, sending her gently swaying back and forth. Such a simple little thing actually helped to calm the rider down.

ROAAAR!

THUNK!

A little bit.

The dragon let out a caw and the rider came over again. She heaved a sigh and grabbed the horn again, but, this time, pulled her little, soft talons in close to her belly to suspend herself from the horn. Stormfly gently swung her head back and forth in what she hoped was a soothing motion.

The loud roar of Hookfang, Barf, and Belch cut through the trees from off-shore. It would soon be time to fly over to that other island with Firefly and all those other new riders. It wasn't that long ago that Zealot dragged him into the forest and hit him again and again, driven by her frustration with him. He only turned that fiery aggression around on her with jaw-dropping gentleness and control in his overpoweringly quiet way to break down her mind and will. It had hurt to see Zealot treat Firefly that way and it also hurt to see him subdue her with the power of his mind and thinking with his lips. Stormfly allowed it to happen, though, in an attempt to keep Toothless calm so he wouldn't do something erratic.

Zealot started to scratch her dragon at the base of the head, right under where the horns jutted out. The dragon simply collapsed to the ground and allowed her tail to swish across the snow and her leg to twitch in pleasure. It was actually helping the rider to calm down. Stormfly shivered and gave an encouraging trill as the giggling land-strider's little, soft talons started to scratch _just_ the right spot.

 _{Oh the things a dragon does for her rider.}_

########

* * *

########

Of all the anecdotes Grub has heard in which someone finds himself being chased by an angry dragon, this had to be the most amusing to anyone observing from the sidelines. Well, Hiccup didn't seem too amused, but that was beside the point.

Despite the hissing and snapping of the dragon just on his heels, though, Grub had little concern for his own safety. For the first time in years, he didn't feel like he was running away from a threat, but rather towards an objective. It felt like being on the offensive instead of the constant cloud of fear for what might come. It felt like being in control for the first time in a long time. It felt like being proactive instead of reactive.

It felt _empowering_!

Grub heard a surprised, enraged squawk from behind and spared a quick glance to see that the Nadder was recovering from a stumble, but wasn't stopping. Had the dragon fallen down or given up, he would have gone back and tried to heave the thing back onto his feet... talons... whatever. It wouldn't be enough to do this alone.

They were both needed for this. They did this to each other. They _needed_ each other.

Content that all was going well so far, he kept on running for all he was worth – which didn't count for much at this point, having had no food or rest in the past three days. The exception was the tiny bit of shut-eye he managed while the dragon slept all morning, sprawled out in the damp leaves, hardly a couple arm lengths away.

That sly devil tried to ruin everything. _Everything!_ It was the only way Grub saw to end the suffering and be freed from the guilt. It shouldn't have been so difficult, really. _Any_ fool should have been able to do it. There were many ways to die and many places the soul would go based on the nature of the death. To die trying to kill a dragon was a one-way trip to Valhalla, where his wife was. Simplicity itself! So many others had so effortlessly accomplished this little feat, yet that... _thing_... denied him such release and even had the gall to try to turn the tables around.

That was when it suddenly dawned on Grub. He needed the dragon, yes, but the _dragon_ needed _him_ , too. Such an idea had slipped his mind until now.

Grub ground to a stop against the fence of the cattle pen and whirled around. The Nadder closed the distance, but as expected, dug his talons in and ground to a stop, towering over him, hissing and panting. Hot air washed over Grub as the dragon huffed right in his face. The scaly beast was probably still angry that the only warning he got before Grub ran off was a kick to the side. Grub had gained some distance over the dragon in the dense forest, weaving around trees and brambles so much more gracefully than the lumbering beast with wings that didn't even have the clearance to take off, but that lead shrunk pretty quickly over the open field. Both were at their limits. Well, _past_ the limits of what any sane Viking or dragon should push himself to do. His legs burned, his shoulders felt like they were seizing, and his body was a great, yawning pit of nothing.

Out of sheer exhaustion and to get that fish-breath snout out of his face, Grub leaned forward, but the beast just took a hop back and he fell down face-first. The dragon even had the energy to plant a talon on his back, forcing his face into the leaves, before stumbling over and hissing from the pain that must have been from muscles starting to stiffen already from the rest they were enjoying after such a hard run. It was actually quite entertaining to see the dragon sprawl out on the ground, only to slowly work his way back up.

One of Hiccup's lessons about dragons was about how they were affected by emotions to such a greater degree than people. He had demonstrated this by having Toothless casually gnaw on a stick, relating that to how a person's emotions affect his mind. He then showed how a dragon was different by having Toothless thrash the stick around and grind it to splinters between his rows of teeth. It would seem this Nadder still had a deeply-seated rage burning from within. Poor thing.

Grub laughed at it all as he slowly stood up, pushing through the cramps. Running fast and far was not an uncommon activity and doing so without food was hardly rare, but to do so without sleep was quite the crucible.

Hiccup and Hauk came running up, careful to give the Nadder a wide berth. Hiccup was shouting out his usual "Stop the fighting and just love each other!" Hiccupyness.

Grub forced out between pants of air, "Hauk. Wood. Lots of it." He pointed to a patch of dirt nearby. "There. Please."

Hauk raised an eyebrow.

"What for? And what's with you and the-"

"Please?"

"Alright, _alright_ , Mr. Bossy Pants. Hey! Hack 'n Slash, wanna play your third-favorite game?"

As Hauk ran off, Grub raised an eyebrow at Hiccup

"Tell me that's not what he named his Timberjack."

Hiccup shrugged and stumbled for a beat as Toothless shoved his way in between his rider and the Nadder. "What's going on here, Grub? Toothless says the Nadder was Hel-bent on chasing you only a moment ago, and now... _this._ " He gestured to the dragon off to the side, pacing back and forth, heaving through heavy pants of air, quills extended on a tail that lashed from side to side. "I was so worried you two were going to kill each other. I guess I _still_ am."

Grub fumbled at the gate's latch and stumbled in, speaking and whistling a couple commands for his sheepdog to separate and fetch one of the younger goats. They were the most rebellious of the cattle still remaining, but all the animals had learned in the past couple weeks that the dog can sling nuts and stones at any that oppose him. Well, that's probably what it looks like to _their_ eyes.

"We tried," he said. "Tried so hard and failed so miserably. This, I think, will help. For both of us."

"Help _what?_ " Hiccup asked. "We have plenty of meat still on the block. You're not killing this goat now!"

That was probably a question as much as a command

"Well, I am," Grub said.

"But, then what... the wood." Hiccup flailed his arms in frustration as he eyed Hauk, who was dropping off another armload. His Timberjack laid down another very large branch nearby. "You can't just go around doing these burnt animal sacrifices or whatever. That's food and hide!"

Grub shrugged as he grabbed one of the goat's horns and motioned for Hiccup to grab the other. The rider complied without even thinking, helping guide the goat away from the pen, despite his objections.

"I reared up and brought this goat over. Class ends in a couple days and we have more than enough. Besides..." he stole a glance at the Nadder. "We need this."

"I thought you need a holy elder to perform the rites. Not even Gobber's up and about at the moment. He's taking an old man day nap."

Grub swung a leg over to straddle the animal. He wasn't Hauk, but he wasn't Hiccup either, and the goat wasn't particularly large. A carefully-aimed blow from a stone-headed hammer knocked the goat unconscious. A quick slit from the knife opened the carotid artery so the goat would never wake up. It was a natural habit to ensure that the death was quick and painless to keep the meat as fresh as possible, even though none of it would be eaten. It also showed respect to the animal that gave its life for sustenance. He started dragging the goat the last few paces toward the large pile of wood that Hauk and his dragon had conjured up.

"I don't care," Grub said, dismissively. "Beggars can't be choosers. Besides, we're sorta mingling a bit with Christians way down South and they give more spiritual power to the people. It's very similar to Zeus and Odin and company. Don't murder, unless you're killing enemies of the church, be judged by the priests, pay gold to buy off your sins, yadda yadda. They believe in just three gods, though. Or is it only two, one good and one evil? I forget; pick any number and you're guaranteed to offend someone for sure. Anyway, I'm sure I wouldn't have to convince _you_ to bend tradition for what is practical."

"But, still, is this really _necess-"_

"Yes."

"Rude."

"Sorry."

Off to the side, Hauk was playing a game he started enjoying where he would cradle the end of a log in his hands, down by his knees, then lunge up, tossing it into the air above his head. The Timberjack would then swipe a wing and cut it in two. Everyone was initially very concerned – or hopeful, with some people like Thuggory – that Hauk would lose his head, but it had quickly become apparent that both rider and dragon had established some limits of movement for safety. They had both learned their lesson that first day the dragon almost accidentally killed his rider. Hauk, though, would appear to have learned absolutely nothing about how healing lacerations could be broken open if one is too active. A lot of licking from the dragon has greatly sped up the rate of healing, at least.

Grub shrugged his bow off his shoulder. It was crudely hacked together with a small hatchet and a draw knife. The only part of it that was properly made was the string, which he had prepared back at home where he had the proper jigs. With the bow, he tapped the Nadder's tail, then pointed to a tree. The Nadder cocked his head and stared at him. Grub did the gesture again. He hadn't ever spoken to the dragon with the exception of the one question he asked earlier in the morning. The silence just felt right.

Finally, the dragon figured it out and swung around, flicking his tail to send a quill into the tree. Grub approved the dragon's choice of shooting out one of the larger quills near the base of the tail that actually contained the venom. He walked over, grabbed two sticks, and used them as tongs to wiggle the quill free. He then placed his bow between the Nadder's teeth and pulled down. The dragon twisted his neck hard and the bow broke in half right where the teeth sunk into the riser.

 _Good._

Grub crouched down and dragged the knife across the goat's belly in quick, fast pulls, slicing through the layers. He pulled and cut out the organs, then slid the broken bow and Nadder quill inside. By now, Hauk had a very sizable pyre setup.

"So," Hiccup said, feeling awkward at being ignored by both the dragon that was always afraid of Vikings and the Viking that was always afraid of dragons, "I must admit I'm really confused. It was only yesterday that you almost had a heart attack just trying to touch Toothless' tail and _now_ you're content to be on your knees, field-dressing an animal while the Nadder is towering over you and, to most people, looks like he's about to kill you."

"Yep."

Awkward silence to address an awkwardly lacking response.

"Did you see what I meant when I said that touching a dragon really lets you understand them better, how it connects you to them?"

"Nope."

Grub reached his bloody hand toward the Nadder. The dragon hissed and snapped at him, but after a bit of patience and persistence, eventually allowed Grub to quickly smear some runes on his side. Grub figured the dragon had no clue what he was saying and almost certainly has never heard about the god Foresti, nor the goddess Eir, and most certainly had no clue why a Viking was smearing bloody shapes on his side. However, It was quite clear by the soothing effect this little ritual produced that the intention was understood.

Grub continued, saying, "This is the closest I've got to touching a dragon. Well, I did stab and kick him a couple times, but nothing too bad. Nothing like you and Toothless in the cove, though."

Hiccup chuckled nervously at the comparison. Grub started to pull off his coat and tunic.

"I don't think Mr. Squawk here can return the gesture. Would you mind? You know the runes, right?"

"Yep." Hiccup reached down and put a couple fingers into the wound in the goat's neck. "I was even there with Dad when the Berserkers and Lava Louts decided that bashing each other's heads in during the height of dragon raids was very unwise and I got to see them do the rights to end their blood feud. Oh, the traditions us Vikings- GRUB! What _happened_ to you?!"

It was nothing, really. Grub shrugged as he idly flicked at the gash the Nadder gave him from their previous tussle. His leather coat provided a lot of protection, but not entirely enough. The bleeding had stopped, but it was still torture.

Hiccup muttered as he drew the runes of peace and healing, calling upon the judgment of Foresti and the healing of Eir to mend the desolation of war.

"Hauk," Grub said, "I'll give you the honors to do Hack-and-Slash"

Hauk looked shocked. "But what did she-"

"She killed my wife. Chopped her in half."

Hauk snorted. "You don't know that! Coulda been any other Timber."

"Female, same shade of orange, it was dark, but I even remember the color of her eyes. What are the chances?"

The Timberjack cautiously extended her neck forward. Grub didn't move. She sniffed at his neck and between his legs, then whined as she tried to hide her massive form behind her rider.

"C'mon," Hauk said. "Red Death. Mind snare thingy. It wasn't really her. Well, it was, but you know what I mean."

Grub tapped the goat with his toe. "Then you will agree that this ritual is necessary, yes? Besides, for all we know, she could have had family you or I killed. Let's bury the ax _properly_."

Hauk sighed. "Fine," he said as he reached down, wicked up some of the goat's blood on his fingertips, and painted the runes and spoke the prayers.

From the side, Hiccup said, "You are a strange man, Grub."

Grub smiled. "Coming from you, I think I'll take that as a compliment."

Hiccup chuckled. "Fair enough."

Grub grabbed the goat and started to drag it onto the pyre. Hauk wrapped his thick fingers around the animal's torso to help. Well, not help so much as pull it out of his friend's hands entirely and toss it up on top of the pyre. Grub pointed to the Timberjack, then the wood. The dragon immediately got the message and let out a gout of flame, instantly setting it all ablaze.

It was actually quite poetic. Enemies of old who caused untold hurt in each other's lives, so tired of carrying their own miseries around that they find themselves leaning on each other. The flame, a mix of Viking and dragon fire, burning the weapons both had used in the war that was now history.

For a while, Grub, Hiccup, Hauk, and their dragons just stood there, watching the flames build and crackle as they lapped at the goat's body. It was an old tradition that was probably practiced all around the world as far as he could tell, in one way or another. He knew from what he learned on this island that dragons are creatures that understand emotion, sensation, and symbolic gestures as well as cut-and-dry logic. He felt some of his sorrow boil away with the blood of the goat and could tell it had a similar effect on the dragons. Well, not that Hack-and-Slash was so disturbed in the first place, but Grub knew he and his dragon needed this. It wasn't perfect, but it was something.

They all had to take a few steps back as the smell turned especially acrid for a while as the venom from the quill started to burn up, but they just stood there, watching in silence. As the fire died down, Grub started to get chilly, so he shrugged back into his coat. After a long while, when there was little to be recognized of the body, he heaved out a long-winded sigh and flicked a glance over at the Nadder. The dragon was breathing a lot more calmly, now, seemingly enchanted by the flame.

"Sooooo," Hiccup said after a long, respectful silence, "does this mean you and the Nadder have forgiven each other and are ready to move on?"

"It's a start."

"Ya know, we usually start with just having the Viking touch the dragon's snout. It's a sign of trust toward each other. The hand is what a Viking uses to kill and the maw is what the dragon uses. It's like sheathing swords and shaking hands."

"I know," Grub said irritably. "We've already tried to kill each other and failed so badly at that. How's _that_ for a show of trust?"

Hiccup gave a nervous chuckle. "I guess so."

"C'mon," Hauk playfully chided, giving his friend a shove at the Nadder. "Just make out and get it over with."

Grub stumbled from the shove and steadied himself right next to the Nadder. The dragon eyed him and fluttered his wings. The spikes on the tail had settled down for the most part, but it was plain to see that such close proximity made him nervous.

Suddenly, an idea came to mind. It only felt right. Why take it slow? Why not just dive into the metaphorical freezing waters head-first to see if his heart keeps going?

"Only a couple days ago, you called me brave, Toothless." The dragon widened one eye in his best attempt at mimicking a person raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "Well, you should know there's a line between bravery and madness."

With a swift leap, he ducked under the Nadder's neck, wrapped an arm around and swung himself up the other side to seat himself behind the large head. He immediately crouched down low and wrapped his arms around the base of the dragon's neck. It wasn't an instant too soon as the dragon reared back, the spikes that crowned his head just grazing over Grub's back. The Nadder took a hop and leaped into the air for some good old-fashioned post-wartime mending. Grub figured they would both regret this and still say it was worth it.

########

* * *

########

Hiccup, Hauk, Toothless, and Hack-and-Slash watched the dragon and his newly minted rider climb up into the sky. For a while, nobody spoke as shock tied their tongues. It was impossible to tell if Grub kidnapped the Nadder or vice versa... or if they were really friends now or if they were going to kill each other, still.

Hauk had his bets.

"Ya know," he said slowly, thoughtfully, "I'll admit I didn't see _that_ coming. But I'm not surprised in the least. It's just so... Grub."

C'mon, Bud." Hiccup started walking toward his dragon. "Let's make sure they don't fall or something."

Hauk put a hand on Hiccup's shoulder, taking care to be gentle enough that it was obvious that this gesture wasn't an attempt to physically restrain him. Only Toothless could get away with that. Anyone else would get a threatening snarl. "He's a big boy. He's made so much progress alone, I think we should give him space."

Hiccup heaved a sigh. "I guess you're right. It just hurts to watch."

"Bah! Besides, you can't fly Toothless when he's PINNED TO THE GROUND."

With that, he leaped at the Night Fury and the two tumbled over each other. They were not gentle at all and that really made it so fun for both of them.

Hiccup chuckled at this most welcome distraction and casually said, "A heaping helping of dragon nip to the winner."

"What would I even _do_ with dragon nip- GAH! That's it, now you've asked for- GUH! HOW IS THAT EVEN- HRK! PHYSICALLY POSSIBLE?! Ha! _Bad_ dragon! No you don't! OOF!

Hiccup spared a sideways glance at the Timberjack, who met his gaze. There was a thin smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes, though.

" _Vikings!"_

* * *

 **A/N:  
Thanks for reading! Also, thank you VigoGrimborne for beta-reading.**

 **Also, thank you so much for the encouraging words, 10Blue10. When I get a bit of time on my hands, I totally gotta take a look at your new story.**


	18. When Push Comes to Shove

**When Push Comes to Shove**

Astrid took in a deep lungful of the crisp, cold air. The falling sun lit up the scattering of what was between light sleet and heavy snowflakes. It danced around and stung her eyes and nose that were exposed through the opening in her fur-lined leather helmet. Aside from that, layers of fur, topped with a smooth windbreaker hide, were keeping her quite warm.

Fishlegs, seated right behind her, shifted nervously. He had nothing to complain about, really, as he wasn't feeling _any_ of the biting wind. Taking after Hiccup, the flap on his helmet was flipped down to completely encapsulate his head. Being a dragon whisperer, he wasn't really blind as he could see through the eyes of the obliging dragon on which he sat. They were about to transfer from the back of Stormfly, who was hungry, to Meatlug, who had just eaten her fill of fish from the ocean. The dragons could have flown out and eaten at any time, but they and their riders really enjoyed doing so many things together and the dragons always loved having an audience when they put on such a show.

Besides, it was always entertaining to watch the Gronckle "go fishing", if one could even relate that to a dragon shooting a ball of molten rock into the ocean before splashing in like a boulder. It was a very effective method, though, that left a belly-busting meal for the Gronckle to simply gobble up as she hovered over the water.

Such a sight was one of the first things Hiccup had shown the entire class, though they had to watch from the shoreline instead of from above on a dragon's back. Five dragons provided enough food to feed themselves and the entire class in as little time as it took for the students' jaws to hit the ground. It helped to assuage the suspicions that so many had that dragons would naturally want to raid villages, even without the Red Death.

Naturally, Toothless with his explosive fireballs was the crowd favorite.

That was one thing Astrid adored about Hiccup. He was brilliant. There simply was no other way to put it. When it came to convincing someone of something, nothing was sacred and he always came up with clever ways to prove his point. Somehow, instead of beating an idea through someone's thick skull, he could conceive a scenario where they would _want_ to believe what he was saying about dragons. However, it was always annoying when he turned such attentions on Astrid. He always told her that she was too hasty to pull out her ax and hack out a solution to opposition.

What did he know, though? How many times would he have died with all his peace-mongering trust-the-guy-with-a-blade-at-your-throat tactics were it not for Toothless's fangs and Astrid's ax to save his naive ass? His naive and reckless… and tight and shapely…

Astrid shook her head vigorously to clear it. Her count was in the twenties.

"You alright?" Fishlegs asked, looking at her through Stormfly's eyes as she craned her head around to look.

Astrid snapped her attention back to the present and realized her whitened knuckles were popping. She allowed her fingers to relax and put on a smile.

"Yeah, I'm good. We should transfer over to Meatlug."

"Ladies first."

Astrid could hear the timid tone that Fishlegs was trying to conceal. He never was comfortable with mid-air transfers between dragons, but Stormfly was hungry and the riders would freeze if she dove with them on her back. It was a well-known fact that when the air is cold, which is always, a wet Viking is a dead Viking. The principle holds true when flying, but multiplied by a thousand.

His whimpering was cut off when a lurch from Stormfly and a shove from Astrid sent him flying off the dragon. Naturally, he flailed his arms and legs with a distinctly noteworthy lack of grace. To one rider's utter lack of surprise and the other's overwhelming relief, Meatlug caught her rider on her back and even allowed herself to dip down on impact to make the landing quite soft.

"That was _not_ nice!" Fishlegs called up to Astrid after righting himself in his saddle. It was kinda creepy to watch him and his dragon both crane their necks to look up at her in unison.

"Oh, grow a pair, Fishy. 'Sides, there was no room to doubt that Meatlug could easily catch you. I'm coming in, now."

The shield-maiden unhooked her flight harness from the saddle and leaned low to her right to wrap an arm around the Nadder's leg. Just as the flaring of the talons halted her downward motion, she let go and neatly slid into the Gronckle's saddle behind her fellow rider. It was one of many tricks she had practiced a lot with her dragon. The pair was very comfortable with the rider flying from almost any position – hanging off the leg, inverted under the belly with ankles secured through loops on the saddle, standing on the base of the tail, balanced on the head – anywhere. She actually won the crowd's vote against Hiccup in one of the tribes recent dragon stunt shows by swooping in and dropping to balance on one foot on a barrel before her dragon flipped up to perch similarly on the same barrel. Some showboating by grabbing the dragon's maw and flipping up onto her back without losing balance sealed the deal.

Astrid fondly watched Stormfly waste no time in skimming over the water to snap up the few remaining already dead fish that Meatlug had left afloat on the surface before diving in to get some of her own. She would then burst out of the water, fly along to find another target, then fold her wings and dive in again. It was all so elegant and graceful and beautiful. Especially without all of Fishleg's... girth… weighing her down.

"What's so funny?" Fishlegs casually asked over his shoulder.

 _Oops_.

Astrid didn't mean to titter at the thought.

"Oh, nothing."

"Uh... huh."

When she had her fill, Stormfly flew back up to the others. Without warning, Astrid leaned and shoved off from Meatlug's side to land on her dragon's back. Fishlegs let out a customary yelp of surprise, but he was so used to Astrid - among others - doing such things that he had long since given up on chiding them for being so spontaneous and reckless.

"But what if something _did_ happen?"

Astrid quirked an eyebrow to her fellow rider, who was looking at the back of the Gronckle's head on which his large hands rested.

"Meatlug," Astrid shouted over, "tell your rider to just toughen up and relax."

Fishlegs let out a decidedly unmanly squeal of joy and leaned forward to hug his dragon. "I love you _just_ the way you are, too!"

Astrid rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue. "Why do I have the feeling she just told you the _exact_ opposite?"

Fishlegs turned his head to look at her as they flew side-by-side. "Because you are a very perceptive person?"

Astrid snorted. Sometimes, it was impossible to tell if Fishlegs was _trying_ to give a silly answer or if it just came naturally. She shoved those thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand. Red Cedar island was getting close and she didn't want to waste any time. There was no pressing need for haste, really, aside from making sure that Snotlout and the twins didn't blow up the island or something before they left to swap places with Astrid and Fishlegs.

She would definitely arrive long before supper and sunset, but there was one rider in particular who was bothering her from several leagues away. Hiccup's strange, annoying, spineless... Hiccupyness was an itch she needed to scratch away.

Most of the snow that had dumped on Berk must not have gone as far south as even this relatively short flight. As the mostly snow-free roofs of the longhouses came into clear focus, it had become apparent that scratching said itch would have to wait. A brownish-red Timberjack was roaring and snapping at two Nadders, one teal and the other yellow, who were hissing and screeching right back. Astrid recognized those dragons, as well as their riders who were fighting each other, and it looked like they were playing for keeps.

And, of course, amid the clashing swords and claws, who else would be scrambling to his feet – well, _foot_ – after receiving a new haircut, thanks to a near-miss from a swipe of the Timberjack's wing, and running toward – yes, toward, and not away from – the very dragon that almost decapitated him?

The one and only very annoying itch himself, of course!

Instantly, Astrid went into what everyone liked to call her battle mode. Tangible, measurable objectives formed in her mind, ranked in order of importance. First: protect Hiccup and Toothless. Second: protect the other riders and dragons of Berk. Third: if plausible, prevent the conflict from escalating.

Last, of course, when they found a safe spot, was to smack some sense into Hiccup for putting himself in danger. Again.

In the blink of an eye, every living thing was assigned a status as either an ally, enemy, or something in between, as well as an assessment of combat competency. Every tree, branch, sword, ax, rock, shovel, and scrap of hide lying around was assessed as possible weapons or obstacles for herself and each aforementioned living thing. Different routes to approach and flank potentially hostile targets or escape from danger were noted and stored away. Relationships formed in her mind between riders and dragons as she noticed how they arranged themselves. Those two Nadders were definitely Vigdis'. Astrid initially thought that was Hauk's Timberjack, but then she remembered his was orange, not brownish-red. Judging by how this one was fighting the Nadders in just the same manner Vigdis was fighting Bolvurk, they must have bonded while Astrid was away on Berk. The extent of their loyalty to each other, though, was unknown.

In her battle mode, even Astrid's voice transformed into a sharp, commanding tone that no creature with any modicum of self-preservation would dare to question.

"Fishlegs, Meatlug, you get the Timberjack. Smash him from above, then get up _immediately_. Mind the sharp wings. Then get Tofa in the air. I'll get the Nadders. Now go!"

Any simpering protest Fishlegs might have had was cut off as he hunched down to maintain his grip on the saddle handles. Clearly, Meatlug was one such creature with a modicum of self-preservation and obediently dropped like a rock. Astrid and Stormfly moved as one to shoot at the teal Nadder, which was closest to Hiccup. Stormfly's talons impacted the other Nadder's hip and both dragons touched down in a rough landing. At the exact same moment, Meatlug dropped right onto the Timberjack, flattening him to the ground.

Everything was going exactly according to plan.

It was obvious why these dragons were fighting each other, but still surprising that they had grown so close and loyal to their respective riders so quickly. Every dragon loves a good scuffle every now and then, but it was clear they were acting to defend their own rider. Hiccup would, no doubt, leverage this incident in a rousing speech about the weighty responsibility on the rider. It's true, but to expect all Vikings to simply join hands and get along overnight is just so naive and unreasonable and so... so... _Hiccup_!

In one, well-practiced move, Astrid slid off her dragon's back, ax clutched tightly. She rolled as she hit the ground, shifting the ax to one hand while she held the other out toward the dragon. Slow, confident, menacing steps took her closer without any fear. Aside from confidence in her own abilities, she knew that there were three dragons from Berk nearby and, with the respect Hiccup commanded among the other dragons, they would surely rush in to help if needed instead of standing on the side and gawking... like they were doing right now...

She stared at the yellow Nadder and spoke in a commanding voice, "If you want to cause trouble, you leave now. If you stay, you cooperate. If you fight me, you die."

The unspoken words or thought projection or whatever Hiccup has become so enthralled with teaching others about were probably a bit more muddled than some of the other riders, but Astrid had no doubt that the main idea was communicated. The tone alone would make the situation clear.

"Astrid!" Hiccup's surprised yelp caught her ear, but not her eyes that were focused on the dragon. "I _got_ this! Really. Please back off! Just let me-"

He cut himself off with a startled gasp when a large, wooden bowl knocked one of the swordsmen, Bolvurk from the Murderous tribe, off his feet. Astrid flicked her eyes to see Gobber slam into the back of the other fighter, Vigdis from the Berserker tribe, demonstrating a grace that one would have never guessed belonged to such a large and ungainly peg-legged man.

Hiccup had his hands on the Timberjack's snout, though, and seemed to be actually calming the dragon down, despite how frequently those yellow eyes flicked from the dragon whisperer to his own rider, who was now being hauled away from Vigdis by other Vikings rushing in to break up the fight. Normally, such fighting would be a fun distraction to enjoy, but they had all agreed to rules as strict as an inter-tribal Thing. Any unprovoked aggression would make the assailant free game for retaliation, except of course for a formal duel to which both Vikings agreed. This, though, was clearly little more than one Viking lashing out at another, just like when Camicazi tried to kill Grub when she first appeared on the island.

Astrid couldn't shake the feeling of Deja Vu as Hiccup reached his hand toward the Timberjack's snout. It was a parody of that time in the kill ring when he tried to tame the Monstrous Nightmare and show the entire village that dragons could be friends instead of enemies.

 _Didn't_ that _go swimmingly?_ Astrid thought to herself

However, the Timberjack turned about and went off into the woods in the amusing wing-flopping sort of waddle they use to move on land. Having no actual legs, they supported their weight on some of the larger bones in their wings that acted as legs, which made their waddle look disturbingly reminiscent to a seal.

Hiccup immediately turned about and started running at the yellow Nadder that Astrid was staring down. The teal one had regained his footing and was engaged a screeching contest with Stormfly. There was no concern, there, as Stormfly was one tough fighter and could handle herself if the other dragon attacked. It looked like just the threat of such a fight was enough to keep the teal dragon at bay.

What _was_ concerning, though, was the black mark around Hiccup's left eye, a fresh cut on his cheek, and an obvious limp that couldn't be explained by the prosthetic leg.

Without hesitation, Astrid grabbed a handful of the boy's coat and hauled him in close. "Hiccup, what-"

"Astrid! Let go!"

"-the Hel happened to you? You look like-"

"Not now! Astrid! _PLEASE_!"

"To Hel with these maggots. I'm getting you out-"

"ASTRID!"

The stunted boy pushed her sleeve up and bit – bit! – the exposed forearm. She cried out in pain and Hiccup dropped to the ground to clumsily run up to the yellow Nadder. It hissed and snapped at him, but he still held out a hand and slowly inched his way closer, mumbling soothing nothings, probably projecting some sort of calming thoughts. However, any assurance that he was in control was lost when the teal Nadder rounded on him, ignoring Stormfly, and started to join the yellow Nadder in hissing and snapping, wings unfurled, quills extended, tail lashing side to side.

Astrid's blood boiled. That fool was going to get himself killed!

 _Does he have no sense of responsibility?!_

There was only one objective left. Any attempt at preventing escalation has already failed. Fishlegs and Tofa were safe in the air on the Gronckle. Grump was nearby, active, and unstoppable, while Gobber could certainly handle himself. Besides, the old man clearly wasn't the target of the Nadders' ire because Hiccup was... standing in the way...

 _I'm going to murder that boy if that dragon doesn't first!_

Astrid instantly made a tactical decision. The last two objectives to get Hiccup out of harm's way and slap some sense into him could be merged into one.

"Storm! Come!"

The dragon immediately took one leap to her side. Astrid knew that Stormfly took no insult to the brusque commands that others may consider demeaning. The two had such a genuine respect for each other, the dragon for her rider's tactical organization and clear mind in a chaotic situation, and the rider for her dragon's power, reflexes, and ability to focus on the fight. Such situations required one to be blunt, direct, and concise. Astrid grabbed the back of Hiccup's coat and hauled him over, ignoring his protests. There was no way he could bite her arm again.

"Fire!"

There was almost no perceptible pause between the command and a white-hot inferno that landed on the ground just in front of the yellow and teal Nadders. Stormfly anticipated such a move and had prepared a blast, but still waited for the command. Astrid could feel the wave of heat just from the very brief moment it sailed past her. She frowned, though. The hostile Nadders would have recovered from a direct fire blast, but Stormfly aimed short on purpose. Was Hiccup influencing her with his unspoken projections? Astrid added to her list of objectives the task of dealing with that too, but the swathe of fire did instantly send burning embers and smoke into the air and caused general panic and chaos. It would suffice.

"Down!"

Astrid used that moment of confusion to bunch up Hiccup's coat in one fist and grab his leg with the other and tossed him up onto Stormfly's back to let him lay there face-down like a sack of potatoes. He shouted protests as he always does and she ignored him as she always must. She jumped up into the saddle, clipped the two leather-bound hooks to the flight harness in the blink of an eye, and used her forearms to press Hiccup down into the dragon's back.

"Fly!"

A leap with powerful legs and a thrust of strong wings sent them aloft, sailing over the trees and toward the nearest shore. Astrid hadn't hinted at any direction to go, but this seemed good enough.

"Astrid!" Hiccup cried out in frustration.

He tried to roll over and sit up, but his protests gave way to a pained gasp as Astrid dug her elbows into his back. She didn't want to cause any further damage, but this boy almost got himself killed. Again! He nearly lost his head to the Timberjack and was about to take more unnecessary risks with the Nadders, all in the name of trying to calm them down. Only a special kind of crazy fool would even _think_ of doing _that_ when he was being groomed to take over as chief in the future and, especially, when his girlfriend wanted him in one piece. Besides, those dragons and Vikings probably _should_ fight. Hopefully, they'll do what Grub and Camicazi didn't and kill each other to clear a bit of stupidity from the Barbaric Archipelago.

"Later, Hiccup. Busy saving your ass!"

"OW! I don't need- You can't just- ASTRID!"

As they sped over the treetops, the signature screeching roar drew her attention to a black form darting through the woods, trying to keep pace. She ignored it. Everyone knew that Toothless wanted nothing more than to protect and be with his rider. He wanted his rider to be safe, and safe was _precisely_ what Astrid had in mind. Safe would be somewhere far away from this fight that had broken out and away from angry dragons. Safe would be by her side. Safe would be somewhere _not_ on this island. There was a small speck of land a little way off-shore that had "safe" written all over it for the immediate future until they could get their thoughts sorted out and come up with a better long-term plan.

Hiccup wailed out, "Toothless! Don't!"

A splash drew Astrid's attention back to the ground – well, shoreline. Toothless splashed into the water off the coast and was desperately swimming toward them through the high waves. Stormfly kept flicking her attention down there and cawed out plaintively to her rider.

Surely, Toothless would not do something so stupid as to try to swim after them. The waters were freezing and his wings would only drag him down, especially with how choppy the water was. After all, Hiccup was safe on Stormfly's back. Anywhere else would be a risky place for him to be.

Astrid pressed her dragon onward, but the stubborn creature would not cooperate. They turned around and landed on the pebble-strewn beach. Astrid slid off and grabbed her dragon's horn in annoyance.

New objectives formed in her mind. First: get Stormfly to cooperate. Second: get Hiccup to a safer location. Lastly: use Hiccup's own prosthetic leg to beat some sense into him. The last two objectives were interchangeable as long as the first was assured.

"C'mon, girl!" Astrid hissed at her dragon. "We can't just stop here! Toothless will be fine. Just tell him to calm down and-"

She was cut off by a shrieking roar from behind. The black dragon beat his wings to spring out of the water, landed on the beach, and lunged right into Stormfly. The two tumbled over and proceeded to screech, hiss, snap, and lunge at each other. Hiccup was at Astrid's side and started to run toward them, but she pushed him down, grabbed his prosthetic leg, yanked it off the stump, gave him a kick - firm, but gentle - and shouted "STAY!" before running into the fray.

Stormfly did _not_ deserve this sort of harassment from Toothless. This was definitely beyond just play-fighting. Toothless was just acting like a big baby and Stormfly should _not_ be receiving such treatment just for obeying her rider. Astrid charged in between the two dragons and hit the Night Fury's snout with Hiccup's prosthetic leg. She didn't intend to hurt him, but just wanted to get his attention.

She grabbed the bridge between the nostrils in her free hand and shouted, "Look here! If you want to cry and thrash around, _fine_! But don't you _dare_ take it out on Stormfly!"

The insane foolishness of her rash actions only now started to dawn on her. Toothless, who was glaring poisonous daggers at her, flicked a glance at the prosthetic leg still clutched in her hand, then to Hiccup frantically crawling toward them on his hands and knees. There wasn't even enough time to perceive any motion before Astrid's back slammed into the rocky beach. A clawed paw pressed against her chest with a painful weight, digging in to bunch up her thick riding gear. Those acidic green eyes held pupils that were narrowed to the thinnest slits she had ever seen and it was clear that this dragon was fuming mad.

Absolute terror cut off her breath and clutched at her chest. This was _not_ the same dragon that was giving cute puppy faces for the past two weeks. This was not the same creature that rolled around with his rider and playfully wrestled with Hauk. This was not the same Night Fury that would gently paw at the little Bog Burglar girls and playfully throw leaves into the air with his wings.

No, this was an entirely different beast that was roaring with contempt and rancor. This was a creature that could destroy the entire world with a glance if looks could kill. This was the offspring of lightning and death itself. This was _the_ Night Fury that inspired the line in the dragon manual unique only to this species: "Never engage this dragon. Your only chance is to hide and pray that it does not find you."

Astrid's mind raced. She wasn't sure what Toothless would do. He's snarled and snapped at people before, but has never gone _this_ far. Astrid's ax was long-abandoned in the clearing around the longhouses; she hadn't bothered to fetch it in the blind hurry to secure Hiccup. Her fingers were wrapped around the handle of a bush knife on her hip, but there was a voice in her head saying not to pull it out of its sheath. That voice told her that it would not protect her and that she would absolutely die the very instant she pulled it out.

That voice had a very familiar ring to it. It was called self-preservation.

There was another small voice, which spoke softly in a small part of Astrid's mind that was still observant and clear-thinking. While most of her consciousness was frozen in fear, that small part of her knew that Toothless was aware of the fact that she was only trying to help his rider. She also figured that Toothless could still be weighed down by how she has treated Hiccup these past couple weeks. The voice in her head told her that this dragon would have swum until he drowned from exhaustion or, more likely, froze to death in a blind attempt to get his paws on his rider.

In retrospect, it was quite an insensitive thing to do to the poor dragon. Hiccup had told her about how Toothless was forced to watch his rider get carried off, back when he had found Tolerant and Firebrand. If Toothless wasn't paralyzed from the Skrill's lightning, if he wasn't entirely immobilized, he would have swum himself to death in pursuing his rider. No matter the intent, watching Hiccup get carried off like that must have brought back such painful memories that would make the Night Fury live up to his name, even though it wasn't night, yet.

As Astrid watched the dragon's claws knead the pebbles right next to her head, her mind was telling her that this dragon was usually patient when people didn't let him do things his way, though he could sometimes let rage get the best of him. As she watched a blue fireball shoot out and hit the beach off to the side, sending up a spray of smoking embers and stones into the air, that little part of her mind also told her that when the dragon takes his rage out on a tree, he completely expends himself and the tree ends up looking like meat that has been through a grinder. She knew, without a doubt, that this dragon was so lost in rage that he wanted to tear her to shreds. She knew that his rider's aversion from violence and shouts of "No! Toothless, stop! _PLEASE_!" was the only thing holding him back.

Such thoughts had only a brief moment to tumble around. Toothless lifted her up by the coat that was bunched up in his claws, but a streak of white and blue rammed the black dragon's side and Astrid was slammed back into the ground again. She closed her eyes from the shock of the impact, but when the world came into focus again, there was a disorienting, dizzying, throbbing ache in the back of her head and an overwhelming sense of dread and panic.

"STORMFLY!"

Astrid bolted up, but crashed back down from dizziness before even getting to her feet. She knew her dragon was dead. She just _knew_ it! She watched it happen, completely helpless, as Toothless proved just how inaccurate his name was as he made a ragged, bloody mess out of the Nadder's neck.

As she struggled to her hands and knees, the spinning of the world started to slow down and shapes came into focus. A couple pebbles underneath burned her hand for some strange reason, but she hardly noticed and couldn't for the life of her figure out why they were so hot. Hiccup was nearby, kneeling in front of his dragon, hands in the beast's maw. Those two stared into each other's eyes with an indescribable, single-minded intensity.

Astrid stumbled backward in another attempt to get up and felt familiar scales behind her. Familiar, but sticky, wet scales. She whipped her head around, but that only intensified the hammering in her temples and the world started spinning, again. What met her eyes made her knees and jaw drop to the pebbled beach. Her breath rushed out in a gasp.

As her eyes landed on those beautiful blue scales, stained with sticky, green blood, the emotions she felt as her heart leaped into her throat had never been stronger.

For the first time since her last remaining brother died three years ago, Astrid Hofferson lost herself in a sea of tears.

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Dun dun duuuun!

And then Astrid killed Hiccup and Toothless killed Astrid before drowning himself in the ocean out of grief. The end. Bwahahahaaaaaaa *COUGH*! Dammit, I _still_ suck at evil laughs.

Just kidding about the Romeo and Juliet style ending. I wanted to add a bit more depth to an element I had started earlier in the story.

I wanted to make this chapter a bit shorter and, while I'm at it, I figured, "Hey, why not try my hand at a cheesy cliffhanger?" Ya know, the obligatory, non sequitur type that's shoved into the last paragraph, so corny it makes you roll your eyes.

But, still, I gotta have _some_ sort of silly witticism in my A/N... not that I know why I'm even writing this in the _first_ place… or why you're reading this stuff. :P

Oh, oh, I know. I could get Toothless to write a haiku. Oh oh oh! Yes! It would be so cool if he could speak in _only_ Haiku! Do it, Toothless!

…

…

Toothless?

Do it now, black one. Speak haiku with setting sun. Trust me, it's quite fun.


	19. Change Don't Come Easy

**Change Don't Come Easy**

Toothless stood rigid and still, joints locked, not a single movement aside from the deep puffs of air. He had seen the signs of rage coming and knew that the threat was not yet over.

To this very day, he could never understand how such a blind rage could so easily overtake him at the slightest provocation to his rider. More to the point, he could not understand how _other_ dragons could remain so calm and unattached when _their_ riders were being hurt or humiliated.

When those two land-striders started fighting each other, back at those wooden nests, Firefly dashed in the calm things down, as he always did. Toothless wanted to throw his weight around, but his rider wanted to do things his way and Toothless couldn't deny him that. When Firefly had his mind set on something, it always seems so crazy, but responding to aggression with compassion seems to work when it shouldn't, somehow.

To Toothless' immense relief, his rider was actually making progress in calming everyone down. Then, Zealot just hauled him up onto Stormfly's back and flew off with him. What was she _thinking_? She should have known better! When forced to land, however, she just asserted herself into the situation in her usual domineering way. Did she think she was Firefly? Did she really believe she could just strut right up to an enraged dragon and expect no harm to come to her?

Toothless didn't mean any harm. He was no idiot. He knew she meant no harm to Firefly. Still, seeing Zealot treat Firefly so disrespectfully and just taking him away from his dragon... Toothless kept telling himself that Zealot brought her pain upon herself. How _dare_ she immobilize Firefly by taking his prosthetic leg! Firefly isn't just any regular land-strider; he is _the_ Firefly who restored a broken dragon, both within and without, and freed so many from the clutches of the demonic queen's mind snare. Those who fail to show him respect gain only terror and pain and Zealot should know that.

Stormfly wasn't any help, either. No, Toothless realized that was not a fair accusation. Dragons can't see the unseen as a land-strider sometimes can, be it future events or brilliantly blind leaps of logic, so it was only natural for Stormfly to trust her rider. If anything, Toothless knew he should have expressed his gratitude to Stormfly. She ignored her rider's insistence on flying Firefly away, choosing to go back for Toothless' sake. He should not have attacked her like some stupid animal.

Stormfly tried to stop Toothless. He tried to stop _himself_ and, for the most part, succeeded in avoiding anything he would deeply regret for a long time. Zealot bumped her head and lost consciousness for a moment, but that was it. Toothless and Stormfly fought, but that wasn't much more intense than dragons fighting whenever they're bored. They both got some good swipes in and it helped deal with the rage they both had, Toothless especially.

It had been a very stressful day, after all.

In the wake of all that, Toothless didn't know what to do. He was still seeing red. The only thing holding him still was that he also saw Firefly with his hands in the dragon's mouth, holding his tongue. Zealot had just woken up, but it was clear she was dizzy and confused. She ended up slumped against her dragon's side, wailing in despair, her eyes leaking. Seeing a land-strider's eyes leak always tore at Toothless' heart when it happened to someone he cared about a lot. Unless, of course, it was because they were obviously very happy. Why they have the same reaction to extreme joy and sorrow was a mystery that will likely never be solved. Maybe it's a natural instinct to confuse their enemies.

Toothless snapped his eyes back to his rider as they were the only parts of his body he would allow to move at all. He hated it when Firefly did this. Biting down on _something_ was the _only_ thing he wanted to do, but he would _never_ harm his precious Firefly.

Zealot's reaction to seeing her dragon was strange, if not worrying. She was radiating extreme sorrow and despair, as if she really believed her dragon was dead. Sometimes, land-striders dream of something and it takes a moment after waking up to realize that reality is different. Did she dream her dragon had died?

Toothless snarled at his rider on the inhales and whined on the exhales.

 _{Just let me go tear up a tree, Firefly. It will help me calm down.}_

He was desperate to deal with his rage. His vision still swam with red and it was torture to know that if he gave in to his overwhelming desire to bite down, he would harm his dear Firefly…

 _{No! I would not expect much discipline from a stupid animal, but you are better than that, Toothless.}_

… His dear, _crazy_ Firefly.

Toothless growled. The rider pinched his tongue. A loud wail caught the attention of both rider and dragon.

 _{Stormfly, tell your rider you're not dead.}_

 _{She can't hear me.}_

Toothless snorted. _{Firefly, tell her Stormfly is not dead.}_

 _{I will, but give her space for a moment. She's in shock.}_

Toothless groaned. _{Did I hurt her_ that _badly?}_

Firefly paused in thought. _{It's not the physical injury that did this to her. I think she heard you in a faint, distant sort of way. Maybe she is not as wholly deaf to projected thoughts as we assumed. Whatever you said to her at the peak of your rage when you stood over her and snarled down at her affected her dream, which is affecting her right now. She was hardly out for any span of time, but a powerful dream can have a lasting impact._

Toothless simply stared in thought. Could that really be? Zealot was deaf to dragons, but her realization that Stormfly wasn't dead was met with such shock and disbelief. The fact that said dragon chose to sprawl out next to her rider when she woke up didn't exactly help, though. Firefly's explanation could make sense. Toothless knew he was at the height of his rage when he had pounced her. Though he managed to hold himself back from doing so many things he wanted to do with his claws and fire, he did not stop himself from projecting his pure hatred and malice. He was just so flaming mad!

The black dragon flicked his gaze back to his rider. _{Tell her I regret what I did. I know you want to mate with her and she really is a good land-strider. Most of the time. I did not mean to give her a nightmare. I know how terrible yours can be. That last one still haunts me.}_

The aforementioned nightmare really wasn't as bad as some of the others. Toothless liked Stalwart a lot and it really was disturbing to see himself killing the large land-strider with his fire while Firefly could only watch in horror. Both rider and dragon were troubled by such a dream and Firefly resolved that he would be more assertive and less apologetic in dealing with any threats that could affect his nest or those he loved in his usual peace-mongering way. If such nightmares were projections from these all-powerful, unseen gods, as some claim, then they need to pick one story and stick to it instead of changing things up all the time.

Firefly fixed his dragon with a stare. _{If you think that is bad, then you have seen only a single tree in the forest.}_

Toothless huffed at the comparison. The rage was starting to fade away, now. He felt much more confident in himself and started to step around his rider to go comfort Zealot. Some croons and licks to the side of the face would cheer her up. She was a wonderful land-strider and didn't deserve the injury and grief he had caused. After all, she was only trying to save Firefly from that dangerous situation back there... in her own, disrespectful way.

Firefly stepped in front of his dragon to cut him off with a reproving look. _{Don't.}_

 _{I'm fine, now. It's past me. I want to apologize to her.}_

The dragon took another step to the side, but Firefly matched his move. Toothless saw something in particular in his rider's eyes and felt it in his emotional hum. What he detected made him feel like every single scale was instantly ripped from his hide. It felt like swimming in a sea of eels. It felt worse than any physical torture.

Distrust.

That was what Firefly felt and it knocked the wind out of his dragon. He was afraid for Zealot's sake. The dragon he loved almost killed the land-strider he also loved. Toothless didn't know what to do. He knew he would have to make some sacrifices in sharing his rider with Zealot, but this…

Strength rushed out of his body. His legs buckled and he flopped onto his belly. He couldn't hold in the whine as he retracted his teeth and plaintively gnawed on his rider's leg. There was only one living being in existence who could reduce his dragon to a whimpering worm. There was, likewise, only one creature who had the privilege of seeing his dragon capitulate. Given the circumstances, Zealot could be an exception.

Firefly knelt down to stroke his dragon's head. _{I know you meant no harm, Toothless. I'm very grateful that you did control yourself eventually. It can be hard, I know, but she needs time and space away from you for now. I'll soothe things over. Trust me, please, and stay here.}_

 _{Tell her I'm sorry.}_

Firefly nodded and closed the distance to embrace Zealot. She shook him off and hit him in the shoulder. Toothless whined as he didn't have the heart to growl anymore. She didn't really hurt him much. Apparently, she was just extraordinarily embarrassed to have been seen with leaking eyes.

Of course, Stormfly was perfectly fine throughout this entire ordeal. They always enjoyed play-fighting for fun and Toothless got her with a good scrape along the side. She got him back with some quills to the neck. It was all superficial damage that would be healed without a trace in a couple days, of course. Thinking back on it, now that he wasn't fighting his own rage as much as anything else, it really was a fun fight.

The trio walked back to Toothless and he slowly rose up, but kept his head ducked under theirs. If she mattered so much to his rider, then by extension, restoring her favor mattered to himself, too. While her head hurt, Firefly had said it was only bruised. Before trying to lick the bruise, Toothless tried to nuzzle her in a comforting way, but she just disdainfully shoved him away. Toothless groaned and tried again, but got the same response. Firefly was doing his thinking with his lips, trying to comfort Zealot and encourage her to just forgive and forget.

Stormfly tried to even things out on behalf of her rider as she wrapped her teeth around the quills she stuck in him during their fight and roughly jerked them out. They were the smaller ones with no venom, but she was not gentle at all and Toothless accepted it. He yelped in pain from the last quill she pulled out and saw a smile tug at Zealot's lips, which quickly turned into a frown when she realized her reaction.

She still would not accept an apology. Such behavior always baffled Toothless. Land-striders could control their emotions so much more effectively than a dragon, but they could also hold onto them like leeches. Dragons, on the other wing, just fight over such things and then leave them to the past.

 _Why must land-striders be so difficult?_

As Toothless and Stormfly finished a quick lick of each other's minor wounds, an idea came to mind. Firefly was sad that Zealot was still angry, but perhaps something could be done to fix this. Sure, she had every right to hate the dragon that almost killed her and projected so much rage-induced hatred at her, but maybe some sort of tribute would sway her.

Toothless turned about and took a couple strides to the edge of the water. Without any conscious thought, his sensor lobes crowning his head started to twitch around to find just the right position and intensity. Every living thing with a mind is always projecting some sort of hum he could hear on some level to discern direction and distance. There were some fish nearby, judging by the cluster of projected thoughts, if one could even call them that. It was just enough to recognize that there was _something_ there. Those would do fine and they were close enough he could leap up and glide to them without troubling his rider to work the tailfin.

However, something caused him to spin around. There was a previously unnoticed source of projections that were more tangible by some margin and he realized there was an elk not too far away. It would be quite the run to get it, but that would only be a good thing. There was less chance of success than just catching some fish, so Toothless decided to go for it; it was the Firefly thing to do!

A swift leap and glide took him to the edge of the forest. Hunter instincts took over and soft, delicate steps took him in deeper. As he got close, Toothless could smell his prey. The thing was nibbling on some ferns that refused to acknowledge the coming winter. It was a male with fairly undamaged antlers, decently sized with plenty of meat. Toothless slunk in low to the ground, taking deliberate, careful steps. One false move would be a disaster.

SNAP!

The elk sprang. Toothless sprang. Brambles tore at him and branches whipped past. His heart pounded in his temples as he churned up the forest floor. He kept his wings tucked in tight; if one caught a tree, this chase would be over.

 _{Stop running farther_ away _from my rider, you stupid animal!}_

In a blazing moment of insight, Toothless shot a fireball past the elk, spooking it to the right. It had to veer around a particularly large thicket that slowed it down just barely enough. Toothless snagged its hind leg with his teeth. The animal went down and he lunged forward with his claws to hold on while positioning his maw for a killing bite to the neck. The animal kicked and spasmed, then went completely limp.

 _Yes, this may suffice._

Toothless used his paws and wings to put out the fire from his blast that threatened to spread and then set about trying to figure out how to carry his tribute back. Normally, he would just eat it on the spot or Firefly would attach it to his back. It wasn't the largest elk, but Toothless wasn't the largest dragon, so there was no way this would not be awkward. He tried wrapping his tale around the thing to drag it back to the others, but every little rock or root that caught the animal would break his grip.

He ended up dragging it with his teeth. His legs were too short to allow him to straddle it as he walked, so he tried walking sideways with it, but his neck quickly tired. In the end, he found himself walking backward, bumping into trees and just following his sense of direction from the mental hum of Firefly, Stormfly, and Zealot to guide him back. It was a thoroughly annoying process, but that only made the tribute more appeasing.

Firefly and Zealot were sitting on the beach, pretending to ignore each other, leaning up against Stormfly. Zealot's emotional hum was still scattered and panicked, but much, much calmer than before.

Panting and shaking from the chase, Toothless dragged the elk in front of Zealot, dropped it to the ground, and stared at her, waiting for some sort of reaction. Zealot casually stood up, gently kicked at the animal, idly poked at one of the teeth marks in the neck, then straightened and looked at the dragon. Toothless lowered his head and stretched out his neck. She just stood there, staring at him with those blue eyes that always seemed to look right through him and into the depths of his mind. He closed his eyes and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

WHAM!

 _{The things I do for you, Firefly!}_

Toothless flopped to the ground and rolled around as he pawed at his abused nose. It was the most sensitive part of his body she chose to hit, but maybe now she would forgive him so Firefly could be happy again. Red filled his vision for a brief moment, but hardly a snarl escaped before he brought himself under control again. The thrill of the chase and the kill had done wonders to calm down his mind.

As the pain faded to a dull throb, Toothless stood up and faced her again. She was clutching at her head and staggered from the pain that lingered from when it was slammed against the pebbled beach. Firefly was on his feet and tried to comfort her, but she roughly shook him off. She grabbed the dragon's snout and stared at him. Those eyes seemed to pierce even deeper, studying him, analyzing him, passing judgment. Toothless closed his eyes and waited.

And waited.

He yelped out of instinct when something touched his snout, but realized it was a more gentle touch. He opened his eyes to see her stroking his scales, scratching him in _just_ the right spots. It was clear to see that she really, _really_ wanted to hit him some more, but was restraining herself for Firefly's sake. She worked her way toward that one spot in particular, under his jawline, that he allowed only Firefly to touch and nobody else. However, an exception could be made this time and he welcomed the darkness as an overload of bliss shut down his mind.

When he awoke, he saw that Stormfly had already eaten half the elk. Toothless glared at her. _{That was for your rider!}_

 _{She gave it to me.}_

Toothless snorted. _{You are big enough as is. If you eat too much, you will fall out of the sky.}_

Stormfly gave a casual huff as she tore a hind leg off the elk and tossed it on the ground in front of him.

As he picked up the leg, he glanced at Zealot. She was staring at him and, again, roughly shaking off Firefly, who was trying to comfort her. Toothless didn't know what to do. She wasn't entirely over it. Land-striders can take some time to work through their thoughts and feelings. Giving her some space to herself sounded like a good idea.

Besides, the leg tasted _really_ good.

########

* * *

########

"Astrid?"

Hiccup gave a worried look at his friend, who stared blankly at nothing at all.

"Astrid?"

"I'm _fine_!" she spat out.

Hiccup concluded with full confidence that she was most definitely _not_ fine and looked over at his dragon, who was still gnawing on the elk leg. "Bud, could I ask... you... to..."

Even before he could finish his sentence, the dragon picked up the leg and sprawled out behind the riders before resuming his gnawing. Hiccup grabbed Astrid's wrist and practically dragged her down to sit on the beach, using Toothless as a backrest, facing the ocean. Astrid allowed it. She simply continued to gently massage her temples and the back of her head.

"I'm just worried," Hiccup continued. "That's all."

"I. Said. I'm. FINE!"

Astrid grimaced at the pain from her outburst and cradled her head. Hiccup let out a sigh and gently leaned his head against Astrid's shoulder. He could feel her twitch and stiffen at the contact and so abandoned the touchy-feely approach.

 _{She still hurts.}_

Hiccup looked over to see his dragon stealing a concerned look. Without thinking, he projected a wordless, formless acknowledgment.

"Astrid, you're _not_ fine. Can we talk about this? Please?"

"No."

"Astrid, c'mon." Hiccup gave her a mournful look. "It breaks my heart to see you push me away like this."

"I'm not pushing you away. It's… just…"

"You have no trust in me. I understand."

Astrid stood up. "And we're done here. I'm going for a walk. Don't follow me and, for Thor's sake, keep yourself and Toothless out of trouble."

CRACK!

Both riders jumped at the sound of a bone breaking. Toothless craned his neck around to look at them, elk leg still in his mouth and now hanging limp at the newly formed break in the main bone. The tension in the air could be observed with all the senses.

"Astrid, he really _is_ sorry! You'd hear it from his own lips were he physically capable of speaking. He really does like you a lot and feels terrible that he hurt your head."

 _{If she needs to hit me again, I will allow it. If her headache is stopping her, she could have Stormfly do it on her behalf.}_

"It's not about my head!" Astrid hissed as she whirled around on the boy, her fiery spirit returning to her voice.

She pulled Hiccup's coat opened and yanked up the bottom of the tunic to reveal the healing gash Firebrand had left on his chest. The actual wound wasn't painful as it was already quite far along in healing, but Astrid's poke sure did hurt.

"It's about _this_."

Astrid poked at a scabbed-over dimple from one of the healing teeth marks the Skrill had given Hiccup. Then she poked at another. And another.

"And _this_. And _this_. And-"

"ASTRID!"

She released the collar and Hiccup stumbled back.

"You're _reckless_!" she hissed. "You're _foolish_! You're a _liability_ to yourself and those around you."

 _Nonsense!_ Hiccup wanted to scream. The accusation burned like red-hot metal and ignited a fire within. Gone were the days of calling Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III timid and withdrawn. Now, doubters and haters had a new slew of accusations to throw at the rider who had the power of a Night Fury on his shoulders that threatened to lash out at anyone who so much as _look_ at him funny.

" _I'm_ a liability? Hiccup almost shouted. You almost _died_ , Astrid! I was scared to death! You don't get it! _You! Could have! Died!_ By the gods, you're lucky to be standing here! I _tried_ to stop you, but nooooo. Why would the _almighty_ Astrid Hofferson _ever_ stoop so low as to listen to Hiccup the Useless?"

Freed from his duties as a scaly backrest, Toothless rose up to a low crouch, clawed at the beach to dig a hole, and stuck his head into said hole, using his front paws to scoop sand and pebbles on top.

"I get it!" Astrid hissed as she grabbed one of his exposed sensor lobes and pulled up. "You're sorry and I forgive you, Toothless. Get up. It's behind me."

The black dragon groaned as he pulled his head up. Pebbles and sand showered down. He tried to nuzzle her again, but she shoved his head away in frustration.

"Astrid, really. It's not behind you if you just brought it up again. He's trying to make things right with you. You have to at least acknowledge _that_."

" _He_ is fine. Really, Toothless, we're good."

 _{Why am I not convinced?}_

She rounded on Hiccup and stuck a finger to his chest.

Before she could go on, Hiccup deadpanned and cut her off. "Right, it's about me. I have committed some blasphemous crime by trying to help someone."

"You think this is a game?! You think this is a _joke_!"

" _I_ was perfectly safe. I'm only glad I was able to retrieve my leg so quickly that _you_ stole from me before things got too intense-"

"That's _not_ what I'm talking about and you _know_ it!"

Hiccup balked. "What... I don't-"

Astrid painfully grabbed a handful of Hiccup's hair that used to be longer before the Timberjack gave him an impromptu haircut. By simply mentioning that near-miss to said Timberjack, the dragon instantly backed down and was very compliant. Hiccup yelped and stumbled as Astrid pushed him back.

" _This_ is what I'm talking about and you know it. Vigdis and Bolvurk and their dragons." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder to indicate the longhouses farther inland. "You almost lost your head – twice! – and those Nadders were about to tear you apart!"

"I had everything covered, but you just _had_ to barge in there and-"

"You _bit_ me!" Astrid shrieked

"You can't just keep pushing me around, Astrid. Why can you never _trust_ me and let me do things my way from time to time?"

Astrid took a deep breath and glowered. "I _do_."

"Yeah, sure." Hiccup threw his hands in the air. "You let me do things my way _only_ when _you_ would have done the very same thing yourself. Otherwise, you just shut me down. That's not trust. That's subjugation! If you always decide I'm wrong and shove it down my throat _every_ time I happen to disagree with _you_ , what does that make _me_? Huh? If I don't always see things your way, then, oh all-knowing Astrid, what am I to you? Tell me!"

Hiccup scrunched his face to bite back the tears. It was hard not to cry as he considered that this mattered even more than gaining favor with the ever-aloof Astrid. He liked her a lot. No, he _loved_ her! Ever since childhood and to this very day, his heart would attempt to evacuate his chest whenever she would deign to make eye contact. However, she just would not relinquish even a little bit of her death grip on the path his feet followed. Gone were the days of accepting things and turning a blind eye. That ship sailed off when a certain dragon demonstrated that an idealistic boy could make a positive difference in the world if he just stuck to what was right. Having a little black-scaled muscle to back him up helped, too.

It was also appalling to consider that only she, and nobody else, could evoke such a response. Whenever there was a disagreement, Stoick would hear out his son in his usual way until he lost patience and would just declare an ultimatum. Fishlegs would use logic and evidence whenever he disagreed, but wouldn't put up much resistance past that. Snotlout disagreed with everything, so he was easily dismissed. The twins were... well, the twins. Toothless would always strong-arm his rider until it became clear there was no dissuading him, then threaten to sit on him for an entire day – _after_ things were said and done.

Astrid, though, was a fire that could not be extinguished. She would do whatever it took to beat someone into submission, whether the weapon of choice was logic, blackmail, threats, or fists. Hiccup just knew that, underneath it all, she was a considerate and caring person. He had seen her show such genuine kindness to others, including himself, but she simply would never back down until she hears, "Yes, I completely agree with everything you are saying."

 _I'm not like that, right?_

 _Right?_

"You're... you're..." Astrid fumbled for words, suddenly quiet in thought.

Hiccup paced back and forth, flailing his arms emphatically, trying to channel his frustration to hide the whimper that was desperately clawing to escape his throat. "I'm _what_? Different? Useless?"

His voice broke at the last word. The real clincher, Hiccup realized, was that, deep down, he practically worshipped her. She was smart, focused, honest, and direct and he has always adored those qualities about her, regardless of whether he was Hiccup the useless or Hiccup the dragon master.

He trembled, begging her with silent eyes. This was no longer about Vigdis and Bolvurk and their dragons, nor was it about Toothless barely restraining his rage. It was about who Hiccup was, deep down in the darkness he never wanted to see.

 _What am I, Astrid?_

"No." Astrid stammered. "You're... just... Hiccup."

Suddenly, the thought of melting into a puddle to seep into the ground sounded like a fantastic idea.

"Oh."

 _So that makes two of us._

Resorting to his usual fallback, he let his hands slap down to his sides and dryly said, "I may need to start calling you Astrid S _ilver-Tongue_ for how eloquently you speak, sometimes."

"Hiccup," Astrid started pacing, "You know what I mean. You're always doing this. It was stupid and reckless and cocky. You have no right to expect me to-"

"Listen to me?"

Astrid fumed as she cracked the knuckles of one hand into the palm of the other. Her eyes almost imperceptibly flicked to Toothless and her stance relaxed with a long exhale. Hiccup cringed. _That_ was the very thing he absolutely did _not_ want his dragon to inspire. He would rather endure the beatings of his early teen years, when his peers learned how fun it was to hit someone who knew that trying to hit back would only make things worse, than to allow Toothless to be seen as just a scaly bodyguard.

She finally settled on simply saying, "There was a risk with what you did with the Timber and Nadders. You looked like a dead man to my eyes."

"We're _Vikings_! Occupational hazard." Hiccup flailed his arms. "Astrid, the things you and I do have _consequences_. Not just to ourselves, but other dragons! And people. I _could have_ resolved that situation without any ill consequences, but you never _trust_ me and... and... Dammit! I can't fight you!" Hiccup bit back the tears, desperately trying to keep his voice from breaking again. " _That_ is the _real_ problem we have, here. I am _nothing_ in your eyes. Just a pawn on the board who's either doing what you want, is out of the picture, or needs to be shoved into the proper place. I will _never_ be a man who deserves _any_ amount of respect in your eyes and... and..." Hiccup sniffled before spitting out, "I _accept_ it!"

Astrid fumed. Hiccup flushed. He blinked as a tear rolled down his cheek. There was absolute silence and stillness for a long time. He felt he went too far. Strength vacated his body and he slumped down to a sitting position, wrapping his arms around his knees and hugging his legs. It was a hard truth to accept. He worshiped her as a perfect person, but how did she view him?

 _First to ride a dragon? Check._

 _Killed the Red Death? Sigh... Check._

 _Loved by dragons? Check… Ignoring Skrill and, maybe, Firebrand. Nah, he loves me; he's just too shy to admit it._

 _Confident in myself in the presence of Astrid? Nope!_

Astrid softly said, "Hiccup, you _know_ that's not true. I was only keeping your crazy ass safe. How was _I_ supposed to know you allegedly had things under control? That Timberjack almost _killed_ you! Those Nadders were about to, also, for all I... knew…" Her eyes narrowed. "Are you even listening to me?"

Hiccup looked up. "I... I can't..."

 _I can't fight you. You win; just take the spoils. I can't stand up against a goddess._

Hiccup looked up into his dragon's eyes, which were narrowed in distaste for the rider's defeatist attitude. "Do me a favor, Bud, and eat me."

The dragon compromised by licking the back of his rider's neck. _{I'll admit that Zealot has good alacrity of mind and is almost entirely free from physical imperfections and blemishes, but there are other healthy and virile females in your pack to choose from with similar standards.}_

Hiccup rolled his eyes as his dragon chortled at him.

Astrid still stood there, staring at Hiccup as if studying him. She appeared to be half a thought from just walking away. It would probably be best for both of them, but Hiccup couldn't bring himself to be the one to start. Sensing that they were winding down, Toothless ran in, shoved Astrid to the ground next to Hiccup – gently, but firmly – and lunged to sprawl out behind them to act as a backrest and even slyly slid his tail into their laps.

 _{I could tell you are reaching the final phase of fighting with your lips. It always starts quiet, rises in intensity, and is now starting to get quiet again, so hurry up and end this before I claw my own eyes out.}_

Hiccup leaned his head back and chuckled. Astrid looked over.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Toothless says we should stop arguing."

Astrid elbowed the dragon, who retorted by slapping his tail against them. Stormfly dove in and rolled on top of their outstretched legs, ignoring the protests from both riders.

"I still don't like how you're always just running into the fray like a madman. Just stop acting like you're immortal and..."

Astrid stopped and went rigid from the sudden action of the spontaneous boy. She found his arms wrapped around her in an awkward, sideways, sitting hug with his face smashed into her shoulder pauldron.

"What's your angle...?" she asked in uncertainty.

"I can't believe I missed it all along." Hiccup whimpered out, softly. "I'm sorry about all the hurtful things I said. I was blind to the fact that, all along, you were just trying to protect me and I should be _grateful_ for that. Thank you, Astrid. Really, thank you."

At first, he was just saying that to patronize her, but the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. She had never stood up for him back when he was bullied by his peers because he wasn't worth protecting from something that would "just toughen him up". When she stumbled across Toothless in the cove for the first time, she shoved him to the ground to _protect_ him from the dragon. When she became an ally after that first flight to the Red Death's nest, she cooperated in the interest of protecting Berk. When they finally got to Dragon Island and Hiccup jumped down to release Toothless from the shackles, the only reason Astrid cooperated to "go help the others" was because she saw the greater need. She was just like Toothless in that regard, but with less of a tunnel-vision on only Hiccup.

Hiccup decided on the spot to change tactics. He already had respect in her eyes if she was trying to protect him. If she was _acting_ like Toothless, then he should start _treating_ her like Toothless.

"You're trying to do that _thing_ again, aren't you?" Astrid said flatly.

 _Oh yes I am._

 _{Oh yes you are.}_

"What _thing_?" Hiccup asked with feigned innocence.

"Don't play ignorant. You're trying to get me to _agree_ with you by patronizing me.

 _No, she's catching on._

 _{Ha! She's catching on to your games!}_

Hiccup gave a sheepish grin. "No, I'm not. I'm just trying to get you to _stop arguing_ by patronizing you."

Astrid playfully shoved him aside. "Sometimes, I hate you _so_ much."

Hiccup straightened up and wiped a tear from his eye as he grinned over at her. "Thanks!"

A long silence passed between the two riders, punctuated by little stones plunking into the water in front of them. Hiccup was almost content to let things just rest where the verbal tornado spat them out. Still, though, he could feel the infected wound between Astrid and himself and between her and Toothless. It was a delicate, festering wound that would only worsen over time. How would one treat this wound, though, when touching it would only make it worse? Any attempt at broaching this topic would make her feel like she was under attack or degraded and she'd just lash out.

"Astrid?"

Inspiration struck.

"Yeah?"

Sometimes, a dragon has a wound too painful to lick.

"You've seen Toothless and me play-fight before, right?"

They can't just _ignore_ it, though.

"Yeah."

Otherwise it could get infected and worsen.

"Between the two of us, can you guess who has the size advantage?"

They have to do _something_ about it.

Astrid chuckled. "It's a close call, but I'd have to give it to Toothless."

Their solution is to gently lick around it, from the outside in.

"And who is stronger? Faster? More graceful?"

It takes time to completely treat such a wound and it can hurt a lot, even for a dragon.

"I get it. So what?"

Still, in the end, a large gash can heal just as well as a small scrape.

"One of us is a powerful dragon and the other is a pathetic little insect in comparison."

Toothless gently biffed Hiccup with his tail. He ended up getting both riders and seemed to be pleased with the outcome.

 _{Is this because I named you Firefly? Stop that!}_

Hiccup ignored that and said, "It didn't take Toothless long to realize that winning all the time got really boring for _both_ of us _really_ fast. You know how dragons are prideful creatures? Toothless is the _most_ prideful and he'd say it with his own tongue if he could.

 _{It's true.}_

Hiccup chuckled. "Like he just did. For a while, it was all about proving just how much better he is than me. He learned, though, that if he lets me win, _sometimes_ , it's a lot more fun for _both_ of us."

He fondly stroked the dragon's tail in his lap.

"Even when he just shoves me to the ground and sits on me, he never makes me feel like I'm worthless. He makes me feel like I'm respected. To this day, Toothless says it seems counterintuitive, but it makes him feel better about himself to do so. After all, What else is there for me to do but show him the utmost respect in return? It's… hard to explain."

Astrid took in a deep breath and let out another sigh. "So you're asking me to be more like Toothless."

Hiccup wrapped his slender fingers around her forearm and looked up into her eyes. With the heat of the moment past, it was hard to push through the deeply-rooted reflex to shy away from her stare, but necessity pushed him over the line.

"I would never ask you to lick me like Toothless does, but aside from that... please? For me?"

Astrid sighed and they both let the rolling waves occupy their eyes and thoughts. After a while, she broke the silence.

"So you really knew those Nadders wouldn't actually harm you?"

"I'm not Tofa; I can't clearly hear their projected thoughts from a distance. Still, though, I could just... _feel_ how they're feeling if that makes any sense."

"Nope."

Hiccup frowned. "Well, trust me." His face brightened. "I am a dragon whisperer after all. I think you're getting close to being able to hear dragons, too. You just gotta actually do some meditations with us. I know you've heard _some_ things a dragon says to you even if you don't recognize it."

Astrid raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"That little... uhhh, incident? Toothless couldn't tell what was going through your mind, but by your reaction when you woke up, he could tell it was inspired by what he was projecting at you before he... umm..."

"Almost killed me?"

 _{Tell her I take it all back.}_

"She knows, Bud. She knows."

"Water under the bridge."

This was not enough and Hiccup knew it. The wound would continue to fester unless cleaned. The disease would spread until it eats the entire body. Toothless would always lick his rider's wounds, large or small, to help them heal better without going sour. It hurt, sometimes, but always felt better afterward and astounded everyone who witnessed the speedy recovery. A thought suddenly came to mind.

"Astrid, you've seen how Toothless would curl up around me at night, right? I'd like to ask you two to sleep together tonight and tomorrow. It'll help mend things."

"Hiccup, it's just a bruise. Or a mild concussion. Either way, I'm fine.. Besides I'm not exactly the cuddly sort of Viking."

"I'm not referring to the physical wounds, Astrid."

"I'm not so sure Toothless would be a fan of trading you for me."

 _{She is very wise!}_

Hiccup elbowed his dragon. "Shush!"

"I knew it." Astrid said with a smirk.

"It's not _just_ your bruised head that needs mending. He wants to make things right again! Please, Astrid. Toothless? Would you do it for me?"

 _{If you put it that way, you already know my answer.}_

"I dunno," Astrid said.

Hiccup gently stroked her forearm and looked straight into her eyes.

"Please? You're holding onto your bitterness and it's breaking my heart."

Astrid pushed Hiccup away. "You are _so_ pathetic."

Hiccup smiled and, in a more down-to-business tone, said, "I'm choosing to interpret that as a 'yes'. Thank you."

Astrid sighed and looked down at Hiccup's hands, which were fiddling with the tailfin in their laps, the natural one, nudging the supporting bones this way and that, poking at the membrane.

"Wanna try some meditation right now?" Hiccup asked. "We have everything we need. A comfy place to sit, peaceful environment, time to kill."

"You don't want to hurry back to Vigdis, Bolvurk, and their dragons?"

"No!" Hiccup took a deep breath and sighed. "No. I want to stay away from all that for now. Bolvurk was sent off to spend some time alone with his dragon. I've been overhearing Toothless explaining to Vigdis' Nadders why they were hastily being fitted with saddles and why their rider was packing everything they own."

Astrid had the decency to look a little contrite. "I'm... sorry. I know this class means a lot to you."

"Water under the bridge."

Astrid snorted and was about to say something, but a loud squawk and a shout drew their attention to the sky.

"Is... that..." Astrid drawled out, squinting at the interlopers, "that one Nadder that tried to kill Grub? Oh gods, what's Grub doing there?! That fool's going to get himself killed!"

She was suddenly on her feet. Hiccup could see the signs of her "battle mode", ready to protect whomever she deemed worthy of protection. She was probably suspicious of the emerald Nadder. Hiccup was about to tell her there was nothing to worry about, but as the Nadder and Grub splashed into the water near the shoreline, he realized he wasn't really certain.

"Hey, Bud," Hiccup quickly whispered, "can you tell what's going on with those two?"

Toothless was already on his feet, sensor lobes pulsating and twitching as he felt for the thought projections, emitting a deep thrum in concentration.

 _{I don't think there is any real threat to either you or that land-strider. If I were him, I'd be more concerned about the cold water than his dragon. The dragon is feeling a mix of thrill and frustration and the land-strider seems to be quite calm. They are both very tired, but do not get too close.}_

Hiccup jerked his eyes up as he heard the telltale signs of Astrid jumping up onto Stormfly.

"Astrid, no. They're fine. Just keep your distance."

Astrid snorted. "I'll admit I was hoping to lay into Grub once more before the Nadder kills him, but I'm just worried about _us_."

"No! Astrid, trust me. They're fine. _We're_ fine. Just gotta give 'em space." Hiccup tapped a finger to his temple. "I am a dragon whisperer, after all. Trust me. Please?"

Astrid paused for a moment, examining the situation, before she finally heaved out a sigh and slid out of the saddle.

"Fine."

Hiccup threw his arms around her. Maybe good progress had been made today after all.

* * *

 **A/N:  
** "Thanks for reading and thanks for dropping a line, VigoGrimborne, 10Blue10, and Wodenfang. I hope this chapter wasn't so long that-"

"Fizz, you are a monster!"

"Oh calm down, Toothless. I'll admit it was a bit dry compared to-"

"Hiccup read that to me while we were flying and I almost fell asleep a mile in the air!"

"Oh, c'mon. After leaving the reader with that cliffhanger, I had to give sufficient resolution."

"Besides, isn't Astrid supposed to be real sweet on Hiccup?"

"Well, they're not even married yet in HTTYD 2 and, as I understand it, Vikings go from, "Hey, we're both healthy and of the opposite sex," to popping out babies in no time flat, so I figured I'd make Astrid a bit more aloof and hard-to-get. She always was the no-nonsense, extremely competitive person who has no room for weakness or leisure, while Hiccup is... well... Hiccup. Change don't come easy."

"I'm just glad you didn't turn me into too much of a lap dragon, but I say you should have tossed in a scene where we're attacked by a lot of... uhhhh... people and I kill them all. With my face!"

"Who are you, Snotlout? Although, in your case, that actually would make sense for a dragon with big, sharp teeth. Still, you must have enjoyed the scene where you hunted down that elk."

"It was alright. Humans make much more interesting prey, though. Here, let me show you."

"Ohnononononooooo, let's not. I'm busy mashing on my keyboard."

"C'mon, it's fun. I won't eat more than an arm or a leg or something when I catch you. I'll even give you a ten-second head start since I'm in such a good mood."

"..."

"Ten..."

"You can't be-"

"Nine..."

"serious, I mean _I'm-_ "

"Eight..."

"the _author_! Can't I just-"

"Seven..."

"write, 'And then Toothless-"

"Six..."

"turnedintoagrandpianoandIplayedFürEliseThe end!"

"Fivefourthreetwoonezero!"

"NYAAAAAAaaaaaaaa!"


	20. Fish out of Water

**Fish out of Water**

There are a lot of variations that distinguish the different species of dragons. Some have four legs, others have two. Some can glob out a slow-burning blaze, others a hot but short-lived core of white-hot death. Others yet don't even breathe any fire at all. Some are faster, some have better endurance for long-distance flights, while others don't even fly at all.

However, there is one thing that makes all dragons of all sizes and varieties undeniably similar. They don't have room for the excess weight of fat. The belly is only so large and, considering dragons are both large and high-energy, going more than a day without food is brutal. Two days is nothing short of stupid. Three days is simply beyond insane, as one particular emerald green dragon was learning from experience.

The deadly adder, as the land-striders always called him, thought himself to be the perfect compromise. Two powerful legs gave him great mobility on land and strength to stand his ground against others. The lack of forelegs was hardly any cause for longing as this only made him lighter. Two large wings, but not too large, granted impressive speed in flight with the ability to effortlessly glide on the breeze with the rest of them.

For all that he had going for him, though, he could hardly summon the strength to flare his wings just before smacking into the water. It slowed him down enough to avoid injury, at least.

This made one thing painfully obvious. His species was terrible at swimming. Not that it mattered, as swimming or doing anything when starving and exhausted was relatively impossible. The only thing he could do, really, was to contemplate the inevitable fact that he was drowning and was about to die.

The land-strider that splashed in with him was doing fine, though. His form allowed for decent mobility in water. Also, unlike the dragon, he still had some strength left in his body.

It is a well-known fact that dragons weren't meant to go days on end without eating. The body starts to consume itself at an alarming rate and will not stop until fed or dead. Toothless had once explained that land-striders, with all their layers of fat, sometimes go days at a time without eating on a regular basis. Even little Firefly had more fat compared to his weight in muscle than any dragon.

As if to rub in this fact, the land-strider that splashed in with the dragon had his little, soft talons wrapped around the dragon's horn in a futile attempt to drag him to shore.

 _Not that he was the one flapping his nonexistent wings ever since we left the ground._

Water engulfed the dragon's head again and he desperately kicked, but his movements were more like sluggish thrashing than anything else.

He hadn't meant to get himself into such a desperate state. When that land-strider had jumped up onto his back and clung on like a leech, he initially just wanted to scare him. Take him up high and show him who's in charge. Drop him and catch him a few times to put him in his proper place. However, whether he was grabbing onto the dragon's neck, leg, or tail, that land-strider could not be shaken off. At first, it was an irritation. Then, it turned into a game. Eventually, the game of trying to shake off the land-strider was interrupted by moments of simply soaring with the wind and enjoying the scenery.

Throughout everything, he had talked about his past with projected thoughts that were as sloppy as one would expect from an untrained land-strider, yet still discernible enough. The interesting thing, though, was to learn just how strange a land-strider's mind could be. The dragon knew he had killed this land-strider's sire, but the little creature lost so much more before that even happened. One by one, he had lost his mate and all of his offspring. As he described each loss, he didn't blame the dragons – and not because the dragons were controlled. No, he blamed _himself_. He saw himself as a protector of his mate and offspring.

Such dedication to one's mate was completely understandable. After all, if you can keep your mate after her first clutch, then she can lay more when those eggs don't hatch or the newly hatched dragons are too weak to make it. Sometimes, they're too weak to break their eggs or they don't have the proper survival instincts and stumble off the edge of a cliff before learning to fly. Usually, a female dragon may take some risk for her offspring, but if a male dragon is fighting for them, he's likely also fighting for his own life, territory, or mate. After all, a strong female can lay eggs for a long time.

This land-strider, though, had dedicated his life to protect his offspring. Even though he was being raided by large, fire-breathing, claw slashing, fang-chomping, quill-shooting dragons, he felt responsible for each of his offspring's deaths. With each loss, he explained in detail why he was too weak, too slow, or had become too overwhelmed with this or that.

For how much the critter had lost in life, his mate included, it was almost unreal to see him so calmly discussing it. He wasn't radiating any hatred, anger, or bitterness, just a calm, sad acceptance.

The only annoying part the dragon found in all this was that this made it more difficult to hate him.

Well, that and he was so focused on the land-strider that he didn't notice how he had allowed his flight to go on too long for the state he was in. Granted, the decision to leave the ground in the first place was void of any wisdom, but the rate at which his strength simply drained out of his body was a complete shock. At first, he felt like his body was filled with air. Then he felt weak. Then he felt like he was dead. _Then_ he felt _wet_.

Water engulfed him again and he desperately kicked, but there was no strength. His head sunk below the surface. His legs refused to work. His wings splayed out limply, half-unfurled, dragging him down. Water sloshed into his mouth, which could never seal around his overbite the way a land-strider's could.

His head sunk down with the rest of his body under the waves. As his vision started to blur and fade, he considered the irony of this whole situation. So many times in the past, he had tried to drown his grief in the ocean, but his body was a stubborn thing that would not accept such a fate. Now that there was no strength to stop his body from preserving itself, accepting such a watery death felt wrong and cowardly. It felt... disappointing. For how annoying that land-strider was, he needed the dragon. They needed each other.

A stabbing pain shot through the dragon's body and he found his head above the surface. He hacked out water and took in a gulp of air before his head dunked in again. The land-strider was still trying to drag him to shore by his horn.

 _He must not realize how small he is._

The dragon's talons dug into the sandy ocean floor and he took a slow step forward. Then another. His legs collapsed as his strength failed again. Water forced its way down his throat. They were close to shore, now. The land-strider was able to stand up with his head above the water, but the dragon couldn't move. There was simply nothing left.

Another sharp pain in the back of his leg jolted him. He lunged forward. The land-strider tugged on his horn again. It wasn't until this moment that the dragon noticed the shiny claw in the land-strider's soft talons and realized what was causing this pain. He hissed and snapped at the creature, but came up short and sprawled out against the ocean floor. Bubbles rose as water choked the life out of him. The water was much shallower, now. The choppy surface would have been below the dragon's knees if he only had the strength to stand. It was almost low enough to expose the land-strider's legs, but still enough to drown a dragon that couldn't even lift his head.

Through the growing, blurry darkness, another flare of pain erupted from the underside of the maw from another poke of that shiny claw and the dragon lunged at the annoying rodent who didn't have the decency to let him die in peace, but came up short again. Anger and disappointment seemed to boil off the land-strider and seeped in between the scales.

 _{You are pushing your luck you miserable insect!}_

Another poke, another lunge. His vision turned red with rage. He would have been hissing and screeching if he had the capacity to breathe. Another poke. Another lunge. Another failed attempt to bite off that annoying limb. Another poke. Again and again. The dragon took one more lunge and flopped onto his side, completely expended. The land-strider could poke all he wanted. Death was nigh and it would all be over.

As the dragon lay there, hacking out water and enduring the spasms that wracked his whole body, the rage started to fade. His first thought was the surprised realization that the water did not come up to drown him again. The sandy ocean floor had given way to a pebbled beach. One side of his head was resting against the ground, but he was able to see out of the other eye that was facing up. He could see the land-strider had the audacity to toss the shiny claw away and smirk at what he just accomplished.

 _{I hate you so much, you miserable little creature!}_

 _{You should be thanking him. He just saved your life.}_

He flicked an eye over to see black scales and green eyes glaring out contempt. On his back, a smaller pair of green eyes stared with tortured worry. The little rider wanted to intervene, but his dragon would have none of it and the rider relented.

Toothless gave a huff as he leaped up into the air. A high-pitched screech and the sound of an explosive blast from behind was followed by a splash of water.

As he lay there, motionless, save for deep, shuddering breaths, the green dragon flicked an eye to look at _his_ land-strider. It wasn't until now that he realized this land-strider used that shiny claw to poke at him and provoke him to anger. His own rage gave him the strength to make it to land even when he was resigned to death. It was actually quite clever in an annoying sort of way.

He flicked his eye to look down the length of his body. Water practically boiled off his scales. It was fascinating to focus so much effort into moving a leg or wing – anything – but still see no movement at all. Another round of coughing allowed him to breathe a bit more freely and he gulped at every bit of air he could. The land-strider wasn't faring much better. He was panting through deep breaths and was barely able to stand. His entire body shook uncontrollably – whether from the wonderfully cool air or exhaustion was uncertain. It was likely both.

Toothless deposited some fish on the beach, nearby. Firefly looked like he _really_ wanted to get close, but a black wing held him back and he made no attempt to go around it. The green dragon's land-strider – the annoying insect that insisted they continue this awkward life together – grabbed a fish and tossed it. The thing flew right through the open maw and landed on the pebbly beach with a wet smack. The dragon tried to lift his head or close his jaw, but nothing happened. His breathing became even more erratic.

 _{This would be an embarrassing way to die. Starving to death with a fish literally in my mouth.}_

The land-strider disappeared from sight, but a blow to the underside the dragon's neck made him gag. He snapped up the fish and ate it whole before gathering his talons under him to lunge at the land-strider. Before he could move, though, another fish smacked into his snout. With his head still pressed against the ground, he grabbed the fish and... nothing. He tried to tilt his head to swallow it, but nothing happened. Again, the land-strider disappeared from sight and a sharp pain flared up on the underside of his jaw. He swallowed that fish and craned his neck around to snap at the land-strider, but only got another airborne fish in his face. This time, though, he was able to catch it in his teeth and swallow it.

Resigned to his inability to lash out at the all-too-confident land-strider, the dragon simply allowed his legs to splay out underneath him and focused on catching the fish that were tossed at him. They were common fare, but these scaly wonders never tasted so good!

Several fish later, his head flopped down to the ground again. He still felt the pressing need to assert some sort of dominance over his rider, who had just dropped to the ground in front of him, shaking from exhaustion. He lunged forward and wrapped his maw around the creature. At least, that was the intent, but his snout slammed into the beach a little short. The land-strider simply smirked and casually poked at the teeth with his little, soft talons. The dragon didn't want to actually kill or injure the creature – only make a statement.

 _That will have to wait until I have the strength to lift my head._

A crack of thunder sounded out overhead and rain started to pour down. The all-too-confident land-strider even had the nerve to crawl under the dragon's limp wing. Firefly had produced some long-haired animal hide for him. The dragon craned his neck around to look at what he was slowly starting to accept as _a_ rider. It only made sense with how much they needed each other.

 _{I suppose you need a name, rider. That's what all the other dragons have done. What would fit? Mate-Killer? Infuriating Insect? Dragon Tormentor?}_

The dragon knew he would have drowned without the land-strider's help, but whether that was a good or bad thing was questionable. Granted, the land-strider shared the fault for getting them in this situation. It was only fair to say they both caused each other's grief and pain just as much as they needed each other.

 _{Perhaps you could still save me from my grief, land-strider. Perhaps, I may even learn to accept another mate. Perhaps, together, we can both find release from our miserable state of existence through some means other than a cowardly death.}_

Off to the side, Toothless chuffed as he held a wing over his rider. _{My Firefly saved me when he had every reason to hate and kill me. If any creature can save you from your sorrows, it is your new rider. You would be surprised what a rider could do for you.}_

 _{Then I shall be surprised.}_

The green dragon closed his eyes. He knew he would be fine spending a night in the rain. Now that he had food in his belly, his body could stop eating itself and start recovering from the stresses of the past few days. The temperature had become unusually warm for how cold it was only the previous day. He had a feeling that, under his wing and that hairy hide, the rider would be fine, too. As tempting as it was to lift his wing and expose his rider to the cold rain, his body refused to move – probably due to a lack of strength. Just before sleep overtook him, he figured out a name for his rider.

 _{I know you cannot hear me... rider, but I have decided. You have saved my life and you may yet save me from my own madness, so your name shall be Salvation.}_

 _########_

* * *

 _########_

Darkness.

Complete, perfect darkness.

Astrid barely stiffened in astonishment before her ingrained discipline forced her to remain completely still as she blinked the sleep out of her eyes. Such an absolute darkness was very unfamiliar. Even inside her home on the darkest night, there was always some sort of light from torches or muted stars overhead that filtered in through the cracks in the walls.

Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of a deep rushing of air that seemed to come from all around. A steady, muffled pounding, like that of a war drum from very far away, could be felt almost as much as heard.

Astrid puffed out a sigh as realization dawned on her sleepy mind. It had taken a lot of begging and pleading on Hiccup's part, along with whining "But you _promised_..." a bunch of times to get the shield-maiden to allow Toothless to curl up around her when she laid down to sleep. As much as she liked Toothless, she was initially quite uneasy about the idea of sleeping with the very dragon that was barely able to control his rage enough to… not murder her...

That's what really rankled her. Not that the dragon hurt her. No, he _attacked_ her. In battle, one must have complete and absolute trust in his battle-brothers and battle-sisters. Everyone must assume the best intentions of each other.

Though Astrid never had the chance to fight in dragon raids, she has seen quite a bit. Once, an errant swing of one Viking's ax cost another Viking his left arm. The victim just laughed it off because it was an honest mistake. He said, "You saved my arm from a Nightmare's fangs, once, so we'll call it a draw."

On the other hand, there was one time when Spitelout got in some really hot water. Stoick had commanded him to retreat to a fortified position because they were overwhelmed and Spitelout took great offense to that. In his anger, he struck out at Stoick, who managed to mostly block the blade and received only a minor slice. Still, the trust was breached.

Spitelout has proven himself a great warrior again and again, but trust is hard to earn and easy to lose. It was the same with Toothless in Astrid's eyes. Sure, maybe she offended him greatly and he may be in the right to confront her about it, but this wasn't just an errant swing of a blade. He made a decision and…

Astrid sighed.

And Hiccup barely intervened in time to stop Toothless from killing her.

After she and Hiccup left Grub and that Nadder on the beach – at Hiccup's own insistence, surprisingly enough – she had really laid into Toothless with a scolding of a lifetime. She lectured the dragon about how he needs to trust her. She berated him about thinking that she was threatening his rider after all the times she's saved his reckless self. After all, way back when Toothless was shackled to a boat and shipped off to watch the entire tribe fight a battle against the Red Death that was doomed to end in catastrophe, Hiccup wasn't exactly nipping at the bud to do anything until a certain _someone_ gave him hope and pushed him out of his depression.

All her scolding, though, was only met with frantic licks to her face and regurgitated fish and small forest wildlife Toothless hunted down and laid out at her feet, which he then proceeded to bury in front of her... for safekeeping... or something like that. It was a bit creepy how he stared so intensely at her while burying the offering. There was no room to doubt that Toothless deeply regretted hurting her and, more to the point, betraying her trust. It was clear that he was learning that Hiccup wasn't the _only_ person he can trust.

What was _not_ clear to Astrid, though, as she blinked the sleep out of her eyes, was how she ended up hugging one of the dragon's forelegs and using the other as a pillow.

A loud banging startled her. A black wing lifted and she quickly rolled to her feet only to almost trip over a tail. Freed from the warm embrace of scales and wings, the absolute darkness was replaced by a lesser darkness, but she could still barely discern the profile of Stormfly and Toothless right next to her. The fire in the center of the longhouse had burned down to embers and half-burned logs along the periphery and didn't put out much light at all.

The banging sound came again. Astrid bent down to pick up her double-edged ax she was sleeping on top of, as per usual, and removed the leather sheath over the blade as she approached the large door. Hiccup and Stormfly, who were sleeping together, and a few other Vikings and dragons were also roused by the commotion.

With the ax's neck gripped tight in hand, she unbolted the latch. The wind flung the door open so forcefully she had to take a surprised leap back to avoid getting smacked in the face. A bolt of lightning took that very opportunity to illuminate an emerald green Deadly Nadder standing just outside with someone hanging from its maw. It took Astrid a moment to realize that someone was Grub and that this Nadder was the very one that had tried to kill him not too many days ago. He was dangling from the dragon's teeth by the back of his tunic and the waist of his pants.

As Grub caught sight of her from his interesting position, he mumbled, "I can stand on my own two feet, but this scaly parrot is trying to... I don't even know!"

It wasn't until Toothless shoved her to the side that Astrid realized she was holding her ax in both hands in a battle stance and the Nadder was hissing through clenched teeth. Toothless was definitely vouching with his actions that the Nadder was not hostile, so Astrid leaned the ax against the wall and went to inspect Grub, who the dragon had just dropped into a particularly large puddle outside the door. He was awake, but somewhat out of it and barely able to stand. His skin was cold, but his arteries were still somewhat warm, so he would probably regain his health quickly if he even got sick in the first place.

The Nadder, which was too weak to gulp down a fish without help only earlier that night, now seemed to be much stronger. The rate at which dragons could recover was always amazing, but one learns to stop being surprised by it. Once, Stormfly had badly sprained a wing and a leg in a particularly nasty "unintentional landing" that may or may not have been from trying a crazy stunt in an attempt to outperform a certain maimed dragon and his maimed rider. For some reason, Stormfly ate very little during her recovery but was back in the air after only two days.

Tofa yawned as she sauntered up with a Terrible Terror cradled in her arms. A pile of those little dragons marked where the two younger Bog Burglar girls were buried with Tofa for the night. The reigning dragon translator looked up at Astrid and said, "Redemption says Salvation is fine, but he hasn't eaten or-" Tofa let out a yawn, "slept in three days, so Redemption wants him to sleep in here where it's warm. At least, I _think_ he said three. It's fewer than the number of horns on his head, more than the number of eyes, but not by much, so-"

"Hold on," Astrid interrupted the child with a sweet smile and a lilting voice. "You completely lost me, but back up. I'm gonna get Grub in here. He needs heat, food, and rest."

Tofa had been high on the hog these past two weeks, representing a third of all dragon whisperers on the island and the _only_ one who could hear dragons speak without requiring contact. The fact that she was surrounded by dragons and Vikings who were trying to better understand said dragons only made her even more excited, but she would always use the name a dragon gave his rider instead of his actual name, which confused people at best and was sometimes annoying at worst. Astrid reviewed what the dragon whisperer said a couple of times before realizing that "Salvation" and "Redemption" were names the dragon and his rider came up with.

 _Are they trying to turn roll call into a sermon?_

Tofa stamped her foot. "That's what I _said_ , Miss Zealot!"

Astrid rolled her eyes internally as she put on that "I'm speaking to a child" face and said, "That's not what I heard."

Tofa huffed and went to clamber on top of Toothless, who was using his maw to pull the door closed behind the green Nadder.

"So," Hiccup said as he rubbed his eyes, "they're on good terms, now?"

"Yessir Mr. Firefly, sir," Tofa piped up. "Redemption says that he's slept a bit since you last saw him and he ate all the fish and the deer leg Toothless and Stormfly left for him, but Salvation refused to sleep and then the weather got worse and woke Redemption and Salvation started walking back here, but couldn't make it, so-"

"And so explains the toothmarks in his tunic," Hiccup interrupted with a light chuckle. "But you're really giving everyone a headache with all these dragon names. Grub can introduce his dragon to us just like everyone else did... in the _morning_."

"But... but... I think it's so sweet to name his dragon Redemption. It's not just because he's learning to see dragons differently, but he saved Redemption's life. He felt like he was redeeming himself from back when he lost-"

"Tofa!" Grub snapped from where he was leaning heavily against a kettle stand by the fire.

The air suddenly felt charged and tense. Astrid could tell that she had missed something. She could also see the signs in Tofa's face from the sharp rebuke. The girl had a good heart and was getting old enough that crying should be embarrassing, so Astrid bent down and scooped her up in her arms. Tofa wrapped her arms around Astrid's neck, squishing the Terror between them, much to the dragon's contentment.

Astrid looked at the girl and smiled. "Just because a dragon tells you something doesn't mean you should tell everyone about it. Your gift for hearing dragons is truly wonderful, Tofa. It really is, but it also comes with a responsibility not to hurt other people with it." Astrid sighed. "Even Grub. Dragons can have loose lips, after all, especially when they're not used to people being able to hear them."

"But... but... I didn't mean to hurt _anyone_."

Astrid smiled and used a free hand to caress the girl's forehead. Tofa had been living with the Hoffersons ever since Spring, when she ended up on Berk as an unwanted, wayward orphan. Astrid was happy to have a little sister and found great fulfillment in helping Tofa grow.

"I know," Astrid whispered.

Tofa sniffled and leaned her head against Astrid's shoulder. "Yessir Miss Zealot, sir- Sorry, I mean Miss Astrid." She then turned towards Grub and said, a little louder, "Sorry Mr. Grub sir," and then crawled back up Toothless' tail and onto his back.

Astrid couldn't help but smile at the sight. She looked back to see Grub was already taking off his tunic to hang by the fire. He had a nasty set of gashes along one side, but they didn't appear to be deep or long enough to merit stitching. Besides, the Nadder was stealing that moment to slobber on the wounds. Astrid knew from her own dragon that Nadder saliva helps the skin heal faster.

 _Weren't those two trying to kill each other not too long ago?_

Hauk tossed a blanket at Grub and said, "Here, so you don't blind us when you take off your britches."

As Astrid went to grab the sheath for her ax, she said, "Alright, if you're all done making a commotion, I'm going back to sleep. Also, If anyone steps on me... _again_ , may the gods have mercy on you because _I_ won't."

 _Nothing breaks up a tense moment quite like a casual, light-hearted death threat._

Everyone eventually settled back down. Even with two larger longhouses, space was a bit cramped with so many dragons involved, but Grub and his Nadder managed to find an empty piece of flooring near Hauk and his Timberjack to collapse on. It seemed Grub also found some chow and, judging by the gratingly loud crunching, he found the world's loudest carrot anyone has ever chomped on.

"Grub," Astrid ground out, "that crunching will stop _very_ soon."

"Yes dear."

"Don't make me come over there.

"Yes, _Ma'am_."

Astrid smiled despite herself as she laid out on top of her ax again before grabbing the crumpled blankets to spread out on top. As she started to relax, something blocked out the light of the fire that was bleeding in through her eyelids. She didn't even have to open her eyes to know exactly what was happening.

"Fine, Toothless, you can cuddle with me a little more."

The dragon crooned as he curled up around her.

"Only for Hiccup's sake."

"Thanks, Astrid."

 _Speaking of the devil..._

Hiccup sounded half asleep already. That boy was certainly one who could pass out at the crack of a whip. Astrid huffed.

"The things I do for a fool."

Toothless started purring. Astrid had to admit it was quite soothing. Only Night Furies and Terrors could do that and she normally didn't get too close to any dragon from either species.

"Takes one to know one, Astrid, but I'll choose to be flattered by your concern."

"Stormfly, smack him!"

"Awww, thank you, Stormfly. I love you too."

"Useless reptile!"

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Thanks for reading. Also, thanks to VigoGrimborne for beta-reading.

Also, thanks for dropping a line, Vigo and 10Blue10. Toothless did catch me, but instead of eating an arm or leg, we came to the compromise of eating my head instead. I never use that thing anyway. ;)


	21. Let's Try This One More Time

**Let's Try This One More Time**

Grub opened his eyes to find that he could hardly move. Above, a heap of emerald green scales rose and fell in a slow rhythm. The Nadder that was sprawled out next to and on top of him was still sleeping. Looking around, it appeared they were alone in the longhouse, he and the dragon. The Eastward slant of the shadows cast from the sun streaming in through the opened shutters revealed that it was mid-afternoon.

He has never slept so long before. Then again, it's not every day one gets in a fight with a dragon, flies on his back, and hauls him to shore to save his life. Last night, Grub could only sit on the beach and stare in wonder as the Nadder proceeded to eat Nadder ate what looked like half his weight in food from that large pile of fish and that elk leg Hiccup and Toothless had graciously deposited on the beach. Well, the dragon didn't _eat_ the food so much as _inhale_ it with unimaginable speed, including the cartilage and bones. The crazy thing almost choked to death a couple times with how hastily he consumed everything. It was actually quite the macabre sight.

Grub idly dragged a finger along the dragon's neck. During his decidedly uncomfortable wait on the beach, soaking wet and huddled under the dragon's wing, his wandering and unsettled mind would not permit his tired body to accept the rest for which it had been screaming. He had found peace only after coming up with a name for the dragon and a plan for the future all in one decision.

As Grub reached to gently stroke the muzzle, feeling the outline of each scale, he thought about the name he had given his dragon. Redemption. A bit flowery, perhaps, but it worked. The beast would have died if Grub hadn't thought to poke, prod, and, well, _stab_ the dragon to draw out some amount of rage. It gave Redemption the strength he needed to make it to land. Grub took comfort that even though he couldn't save his wife or kids, he managed to save _one_ person he cared about, even if that person was a dragon he hated hardly a day ago.

In Grub's eyes, that dragon had redeemed his whole kind. This whole situation was a slap in the face he so desperately needed. The dragons had taken so much from him. His wife, his children, his father… _Everyone_ he valued. When he came here, he knew he would fail to become a dragon rider. He knew he could never approach a scaly devil on his own unless it was in self-defense. He knew he could never accept this fairy tale of dragons that were actually capable of anything other than pure malice. He knew he could never forgive a single scaly beast for all the death and destruction they caused.

 _God's, I was so_ wrong _!_

The day before dashing off into the woods to finally confront Redemption, Hiccup said something Grub had brushed off as silly talk, but was actually quite profound. The one-legged rider said that if Grub ever managed to forgive the dragons, it would not be for their sake, to make them feel better. No. He said that if Grub forgave the dragons, it would be for his own benefit. It can be so hard to forgive one whose actions have caused great loss, but it is an even greater loss to never forgive and move on with life.

In the span of only a single day, ever since that dragon swooped down from the tree and attacked, Redemption has proven that dragons can have a conscience and the very same problems that can plague a man. They can feel love, fear, anger, and regret as much as any person. They can observe, plan, and devise. Even the way the dragon glared at him and tried to shake him off in the air on their first flight yesterday, crusty and annoyed on the outside, but taunting and mirthful beneath the surface, it all communicated to Grub that he could never shake this dragon out of his heart.

After all the loss and hurt, there was nothing in life worth fighting for, worth living for. Nothing could ever replace his lost family, but as Grub casually poked at the dragon's eye, causing it to flick open, he saw something else worth fighting for. The eye flicked closed as if nothing happened.

Grub wriggled his way out from underneath the dragon as quietly as he could. A wet tongue frantically licked his neck and cheek over and over again, accompanied by desperate whines. He smiled as he dragged his fingers through the reddish hairs of his eternally faithful dog.

"Hey, Rusty. Missed you, too. Thanks for not eating Redemption."

Some sort of faint, guttural sound retorted from the dragon, who still seemed to be asleep... mostly. Grub slowly stood, stretching out his cramped thighs and overworked insides of his arms, and looked around. After the rainstorm that blew through last night, the opened shutters let in the warm sun, blue sky, and the chorus of birds that pierced the crisp, cold air.

He donned his clothing and stepped out, flanked by his dog, and left the extra-wide "dragon-sized" doors open for Redemption whenever he finally decided to wake up. Riders and dragons were scattered about. A small crowd was gathered around Hiccup by the fire. Hauk was nearby, leaning against Toothless, palms pressed into the dragon's shoulders, doing the normal things he has been doing ever since he first overcame his fears and touched the dragon. He was, it would seem, teaching Toothless the "shoving contest" Vikings like to engage in at times, where they press against each other's shoulders, lean forward, and try to push their opponent back. It was amusing and somewhat awkward seeing a Viking trying this very same thing with a dragon. Surprisingly, Hauk was actually pretty closely matched to Toothless with how massive he was, even at the age of nineteen. Toothless still had the size advantage by a large margin, not to mention claws to dig in, but Hauk was lower to the ground as he leaned far forward and was actually pushing up on the dragon as much as back.

Even though Toothless was doing his usual thing in using Hauk as a play toy whenever the new rider wasn't involved with his Timberjack, the black dragon seemed to be a bit more hesitant. Grab had only watched from a distance in the past, but he could notice a certain change in Toothless. He was a bit more reserved in what he did and, dare one even suggest, appeared a little less haughty, as if something had scared him recently. What scary thing he might have witnessed was anyone's guess.

 _Maybe Hauk farted in the dragon's face._

Well, Grub had a suspicion what had shaken Toothless and it had to do with his sleeping with Astrid and the massive headache she was getting over. She must have been play-fighting with Toothless or something. Maybe the dragon forgot she wasn't Hauk.

Hiccup was explaining to the Vikings around him the importance of respecting their dragons, not just outwardly with their actions, but in the heart. He said that was why Toothless enjoyed playing with Hauk so much and, in fact, why Hauk was the first out of everyone to have a dragon so gleefully following him around. That orange Timberjack he befriended the first day the dragons arrived gave him a lot of bragging rights, but Hauk was never one to gloat. His body had the build to be fearsome and intimidating – like Stoick, as scary as that sounds – but he was always a gentle soul who loved to draw out the best in people. That was one of the hidden reasons Grub so gladly took the massive boy under his wing as a shepherd years ago, after he was orphaned in a single dragon raid. It was good to have a good influence to chase away the darkness between the ears.

Gretta and Gerd from the Bog Burglar tribe were other noteworthy examples. They absolutely adored their Nightmare and Nadder and the dragons reciprocated their giddy excitement. Even Bolvurk, who was apparently involved in some sort of fight with Vigdis yesterday, made it onto Hiccup's "good boy" list of exemplary dragon riders. He never was one to back down from a fight, but it was also clear to see that the way he handled his Timberjack embodied involved nothing short of respect and reverence.

Vigdis, though, now banished from the whole remaining two days of training, along with her two Nadders, was an enigma to Hiccup. Even at the young age of fourteen and with no close ties to the Berserker chief, she couldn't resist the temptation to attack Bolvurk over a dismissive comment about a blood feud. Hiccup couldn't figure out how she commanded such loyalty from those Nadders when she was so hot-headed and conceited.

Grub hardly noticed when Hiccup barely twitched his eyes toward Astrid while saying that before catching himself. The young rider saw Grub's stare and discreetly pinched himself hard while maintaining eye contact. It communicated clearly enough. Vigdis and Astrid were both fiery shield-maidens in addition to riding a Nadder and Hiccup resented that his mind naturally drew parallels.

"Well, well, seems miss princess has finally awoken. I'll admit I'm disappointed to see that the Nadder went all soft and spared you. I wanted to see it tear you apart."

Grub rolled his eyes and ignored Thuggory's taunt. Without his usual lackeys around, like at an inter-tribal Thing, the heir's taunts lacked any substance and he knew it.

He simply replied, saying, "I, too, have an admission, Thuggory, which is a complete lack of concern for your wants. I'm sure the witticism in your blunt mockery highlights all the other in-depth workings of your mind and I can't wait to see what _brilliant_ future your tribe has in store once you step into your father's boots."

Before Thuggory could even reply, Grub spun around and started for the treeline to relieve himself. He wasn't concerned as he had a sword and a dog. Aside from the fact that the fresh-faced fool had more to brag about for his strength training than his combat abilities, everyone had seen the consequence for unprovoked aggression, judging by the chatter he's heard.

When he returned to the cooking fire, he saw signs of food and exchanged pleasantries with everyone there. Thank the gods that Thuggory found something else to scowl at. As Grub spooned out some stew and found a chunk of meat for Rusty, Redemption came out, sniffed at some dragons, went for a walk into the forest for obvious reasons, then returned to wander about.

Grub looked over at Toothless and said, "I suppose, Toothless, it's you whom I should thank for potty-training my dragon."

The remark caused the black dragon to get distracted and Hauk took the opportunity to shift his grip from the front of the dragon's shoulders to the belly as he slid down below to shove Toothless to the side. Not exactly an acceptable move in a shoving contest, but, then again, playing such games against a dragon probably threw the rule book out the window.

Toothless huffed and walked up to Grub, but suddenly stopped, as if realizing exactly who he was approaching. Grub reached out a tentative hand, hesitated, then grabbed Redemption's horn for strength and touched the black scales. There was that inner connection Hiccup and Hauk always talked about that he had felt with Redemption the previous night.

"Hey, look, I'm not freaking out this time," Grub said.

Toothless responded by licking his hand.

"Now, I believe you owe Hauk a reprisal for cheating like that."

Hauk's eyes widened as Toothless rounded on him and coiled his haunches. The look of surprise shifted into a feral grin as Toothless sprang and the two tumbled around into their usual grappling and wrestling.

"So," Hiccup said, "wanna introduce your new friend to us?"

"His name," Grub said around bites of what he identified as a yak meat and random root vegetable stew, "is Redemption. We used to hate each other, but that's passed. Now we only _pretend_ to hate each other."

Tofa piped up from where she sat in the midst of a pile of Terrible Terrors. "And _why_ did you name him Redemption?"

"Because I used to think all dragons were mindless animals and he has redeemed dragon-kind in my eyes."

Tofa seemed put out. "Aaaanad..."

"And that's it. Nothing else, really."

Grub had already decided that he would not share any more information than that around this company. Tofa pouted, picked up a Terrible Terror, and made faces at the dragon. Grub could tell she was having a silent conversation with those unspoken words. He also could tell she knew quite a bit more than he was comfortable sharing and so decided to tie up any loose ends as insurance.

"Also, I'm sorry about snapping at you last night, Missy. I know you meant no harm."

Tofa offered a weak smile. "It's good. It's not the first time I got in trouble for blabbering what a dragon tells me."

After wolfing down the stew and cleaning the bowl and spoon with the help of Rusty's tongue, Grub started to wander around. As per usual, Rusty shadowed his heels. As was definitely _not_ usual, Redemption followed along, full of uncertainty. The dog growled and barked at the dragon, who hissed right back and snapped his teeth. Grub wrapped his fingers around the dog's snout.

"Easy, there, boy."

He then pulled a wide, carved, wooden stick out of his pocket, held it to the dog's nose so he could get the scent, then thrust it at the dragon.

"Do me a favor, Redemption? Hold this in your teeth, but don't eat it."

Even before he started training the dog in the commands and techniques of cattle herding, this was one thing Grub had ingrained in Rusty. He always kept it on his person, so it had his own scent and the dog learned to recognize and even obey orders from anyone who held that stick. It came in handy when Grub had to go away for a period and leave his dog in someone else's care. On occasion, he would give the stick to his dog, who would gently hold it in his teeth like some delicate prize and prance around with his head held high as if to say, "I am my own master, now!"

Redemption looked curiously at the carved stick and sniffed at it. Grub tried to communicate again by putting it between his own teeth while crouching down so Rusty could sniff at it, much to the dog's confusion. The dog cocked his head and stared as if to say, "I already recognize you, silly," but Grub grabbed the stick and extended it out to Redemption, who hesitantly grabbed it in his maw.

Rusty whined, but eventually settled down and sniffed cautiously at the stick the dragon held. He looked between his master and the dragon that Grub was leaning against, whined, growled, whined again, trotted around them a couple times, then ended up sitting next to the dragon, as was his training from a pup – minus the whole growling part. When it was clear that Rusty no longer considered the dragon a threat, Grub grabbed the stick and Redemption crooned in curiosity, but there was nothing to say, really, besides, "Well, you saw for yourself what just happened."

With the dog taken care of for the moment, Grub took the opportunity to slowly walk around the dragon, really taking a close look for the first time, now that he wasn't soaked, freezing, starving, and dead tired. He had seen plenty of Nadders and even field dressed them many times in the past. Their meat was always horrible, but every other part was very useful. The bones and horns were light and strong. The quills and teeth made good arrowheads and awls. The hide and scales, of course, were good for armor coverings and the sinew was stronger than on any land-bound creature. Apothecaries oozed all over the stomach, intestines, and bladder. The eyeballs and, Hel, even the testicles, preserved in salt brine, commanded a high price among the traders, who said they could sell those to certain customers for their alleged healing and spirit-chasing properties. Grub had always been tempted to urinate in a glass vial and sell it as a healing elixir just to see how stupid these people were, but never really acted on such impulse.

The creature standing before him, though, was so... _different_. The beautiful emerald-green scales glistened under his fingertips with a vibrancy greater than anything he had ever seen. The hide that peeked out where the scales had been scraped off was warm and... _alive_. As he pressed the side of his head to the dragon's torso, just under where the wing connects, he could hear the thudding heart and the deep rushing of air with each breath. The whole body shuddered as he ran his knuckles along the back of the dragon's head. The membranes that stretched between the wing bones fluttered in the breeze and danced with every twitch from his tickling fingernails along the soft spots. The quills clattered and pulsated as the dragon swayed his tail back and forth in patient endurance of this examination.

Grub eventually came upon a large scar on the dragon's left leg. Scales had mostly covered it, but there was no mistaking what lay beneath. His mind shot back to that one fateful night, during that last dragon raid when his father thrust him into the forest and sunk his ax into a Nadder's leg before losing his own head. Grub brushed his hand over that spot several times. Hide twitched. Scales shifted. A large head rotated and a yellow eye stared at him.

It was all in the past. It was time to let the past rot. It was nothing more than refuse to be disposed of.

Redemption twitched from a hard, playful smack to the leg right over that scar.

"You deserved it!"

Darkness suddenly engulfed him as a large tongue and rows of sharp teeth filled his sight all around. Despite having his head literally inside a dragon's mouth, Grub felt no concern as he gently stroked the snout. After a moment, daylight blinded him as the dragon pulled back. Surprisingly enough, there was hardly any saliva deposited on his head.

It wasn't until now that Grub noticed some discolored spots on the bottom and sides of the dragon's head. He delicately brushed his fingers across one of them. It was a scab from a puncture wound last night, when he had wiggled his dagger between the scales to poke at the dragon to draw out enough rage to get the beast onto land. As his fingers grazed one of the larger scabs, the dragon reared back and grabbed his fingers. The teeth were sharp, but the bite was very gentle – just enough to make a statement. Grub closed his eyes and leaned his cheek against the dragon's maw.

"Thank you, Redemption."

The Nadder cocked his head to the side, fingers still painfully clutched in between the rows of teeth, and gave out an inquisitive trill.

"Last night... I didn't realize you were so far gone. To think I was starting to appreciate and like you and then... if I lost you... just like them..." Grub sighed. "You didn't give up on me. Thank you. I need you as much as you need me, ya big scaly bastard!"

He ended up staring into one of the dragon's eyes on the nearest side of the large snout as the dragon stared back at him. He could faintly see his own face reflected in the eye, but it was difficult to see for long before it was lost among the texture of the dragon's iris. He just stared and lost himself in the moment, focusing on the dragon, his loud huffs of air, the life and uncertainty that stared back from both the dragon and his own reflection. He could feel the same sort of studious wonder from the dragon through the contact his hand had with the snout that even his own untrained mind could recognize. Supposedly, through daily meditations, he could train his mind to perceive more than just the primal emotions of the moment.

"Salvation, eh? I'm flattered. Just don't let me get too full of myself. Pride has killed more Vikings than all the weapons and beasts in the world."

If those words were inspiring, thought-provoking, or even understood, the dragon showed no recognition. Grub chuckled and started walking back toward the others, idly scratching along the nose and eye ridges, much to Redemption's contentment.

He showed his dragon the rain barrels around the longhouses. The dragon dunked his head in and greedily slurped at the water. Redemption ended up with his head stuck in the barrel but didn't seem to care as he tilted his head up to get the last bit of water in the bottom.

While Redemption was drinking, Grub was barely able to react in time to catch something sailing at him out of nowhere. Worn, brown leather, adorned with metal buckles, lay in his hands. It took only a moment to recognize that the larger piece was a saddle. There was a smaller piece that, after another moment of studying, was a riding harness Hiccup and the other riders from Berk always use. He looked up to see blue scales and blue eyes.

In a voice that betrayed her annoyance, Astrid said, "Hiccup wants me to take you and Redemption out flying... because your dragon is a Nadder... and I ride a Nadder. _Why_ did it have to be a _Nadder_ of all dragons? Why not a Gronckle? How about a Zippleback? The twins could tolerate you if they can tolerate each other."

Grub wrapped his arms around the barrel and pulled it off his dragon's head as he huffed out, "Because I like to torment the pretty ones?"

Redemption puffed up with pride and the young shield-maiden puffed out a sigh and rolled her eyes. Grub stepped past her and embraced Stormfly's maw. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Astrid glaring daggers at him for the cold shoulder. She was always so much fun to mess around with.

Looking at the Nadder, he said, "I owe you thanks, Stormfly. You saw something in me I couldn't even see for myself. I am happy to admit that you were right and I was the fool."

The dragon gave him a lick to his cheek before digging her snout into his chest and shoving him into Astrid, who was demanding his attention in irritation. Since Redemption was obviously recovered from the previous day and seemed eager to fly together, Astrid showed Grub how to affix the saddle and flight harness. She offered no assistance beyond simply but watching and barking out reprimands for what he did wrong. Grub didn't mind. In his own eyes, it was her own way of showing support.

Though she tried to hide it, she was actually impressed that, before even touching the saddle, he thought to secure the flight harness around himself and show Redemption what it was and how it could secure him down. As he cinched down the last strap around Redemption's neck, the dragon shoved him hard to the side and proceeded to engage in what Astrid had labeled, "the obligatory first-time saddle scrape", where the dragon would flop around and scrape his back and side against the ground and trees in a mild state of panic at the thing clinging to his torso and neck.

After a while, Redemption finally came back, still wobbling from the strange feeling, and proceeded to knock Grub to the ground and nestle on top of him. Grub looked up at the yellow eyes surrounded by deep green scales and smiled.

"Yeah, yeah, you're still the alpha male. I get it." Then, looking over at Astrid, he said, "If he doesn't like the saddle, we can do without. In fact, since you seem uncomfortable in the presence of my magnificent self, we can forgo these flying lessons. After all, we've already flown together just yesterday, lass."

"Lass?! Why you little... Redemption, sic him now! Bite his head off!"

A bunch of staring transpired, but little else. Astrid resigned herself to simply picking up a handful of leaves and throwing them at Grub, still pinned under his dragon. Grub managed to get one arm free to mostly bat away the wet leaves and smirked at her.

"I'm sorry, my dear _lady_ Astrid. That was quite rude of me."

Astrid retorted by kicking more leaves at the prone rider. "You really are begging for my ax!"

Grub smiled. "Alright, I'll behave. I'll be a good boy, I promise."

Astrid fumed and looked over at her boyfriend. "Hiccup! Words cannot express how much you owe me for this!"

"I'm really grateful for this, Astrid."

"Shut up!"

"Okay."

Astrid sighed and resigned herself to kicking more leaves at Grub. Redemption provided a protective wing, much to her dismay.

"You really do need flying lessons, though," she said. "It's not just about avoiding falling. The way you sit or bob and weave with every wing-beat can either help or hinder your dragon's performance. Keep your big mouth shut and focus your tiny brain really hard and you may learn a thing or two."

"Awww, if I appear slow in the head, it's just because I'm distracted by your beauty, my dear."

Astrid turned red. "Are you daft?! You have noticed that Hic-... that I'm not exactly looking for suitors at the moment. Besides, _you_ would be my _last_ choice."

Grub grinned. He was only messing with her. "I think you and, well, _whomever_ you end up surrendering your status as shield-maiden will be a wonderful couple. Now, _Redemption_ , though... Have you _seen_ the looks he and Stormfly have been exchanging since he landed on this island? She's even licking him right now!"

Astrid's red shade got even brighter. Stormfly froze, tongue on one of Redemptions fresh stab wounds from the previous day. Astrid turned to give a withering glare at her dragon, who only chuffed and nuzzled her.

As she put her fingertips on her ax handle, she ground out at her dragon, "Bad idea, girl. You are far too young to experience so much pain."

Stormfly replied by licking her rider and playfully hopping about with mirthful trills.

"Alright!" Astrid shouted. "That's about as much lip from you as I can take before killing you, Grub, so I'm just gonna leave! If you want any training, you'll have to catch me first."

With that, she jumped up onto Stormfly's back and the two shot off into the air. As the suddenly agitated leaves settled back down the ground, Grub looked up at his dragon.

"I do believe that was a challenge, Redemption. It's too bad your fat ass can't catch up to Stormfly with my fat ass on your back."

The dragon's response was to stand up, grab Grub's flight harness with his teeth, and sway his large head to the side to fling the rider up and side-step to catch him on his back. The landing was a bit awkward and rough, but Grub could only laugh. If he landed a _little_ differently, it would have been even more awkward and a _lot_ more painful. He quickly fumbled around with the flight harness straps and hooked them to the saddle the way he had seen several other riders do.

"Go get her!"

As both his back and the flight harness straps protested the sudden lurch into the air, Grub whooped with carefree joy. Two tortured souls learned how to forgive and find new purpose in life.

Grub thought about a certain 22-year-old widow with a young child back on his home island. She had given him stares whenever she traded with him and was pretty, kind, decent with the sword, skillful with bows and slings, and had good common sense. However, after all that he had lost to dragons, Grub was always too scared to allow himself to get close to someone who may just die and break him again, but now... maybe... just maybe...

And who knows, Redemption may end up mating with Stormfly after all. Grub thought that would have hysterically entertaining consequences.

* * *

 **A/N:**  
Thanks for reading! Also, thanks to VigoGrimborne for being a beta buddy.

Thanks for dropping a line, Vigo and 10Blue10. Astrid is a little touched in the head, but then again, so am I. :P I totally agree that cuddling with Toothless is completely irresistible, though. I bet he could eat my dog and I'd still forgive im with those big doey eyes.

Oh, and help yourself to any mechanics in my story, 10Blue10, and thanks for asking. In so many stories, dragons eat infrequently and I find that hard to swallow. With the high metabolism required for flight, there's no way they could be as chill as an elephant. Speaking of which, I found a certain Youtube video to be quite informative and amusing. Search for "How to make an elephant explode."


	22. A Truly Fierce Warrior

**A Truly Fierce Warrior**

When Stoick landed on Red Cedar island, he couldn't help but stare in amazement. When one is constantly busy settling squabbles and negotiating with traders and representatives from other tribes, it can be easy to forget the amazing adaptability of the youth that was displayed all around on Red Cedar island. Of course, he knew that he too was very adaptable, back in his younger days, and still is today. Fighting a dragon and lose your favorite hammer? Swing a log. No logs nearby? Chuck a wagon. Got nothing to throw? Use your fist and go for the jaw or base of the wing.

 _Of course, such wisdom is now expired and all but worthless,_ Stoick thought to himself.

It was hardly two weeks ago that these young students were shyly giving all the Hooligan dragons a wide berth and daring each other to touch one. Well, with the exception of those two Burglar girls, Gretta and Gerd, who had been Hiccup's guinea pigs in introducing Vikings to dragons a couple months ago.

Stoick could certainly relate to their initial inhibitions. Even after two years with those scaly beasts in his village – a difficult transition that involved the hasty removal of many wall decorations and the repressing of certain well-ingrained reflexes – it was only a couple months ago that he worked up the nerve to actually _ride_ a dragon. Even then, it was only the feeling of desperation to save his son from a captive situation that drove the father past the tipping point to actually get on Skullcrusher's back. The feeling of helplessness in the air, suspended only by wings and trust, was a new and dizzying sort of terror that stole his breath away. It wasn't soon enough when he landed and found himself dodging axes in close melee combat. Only then did he feel comfortable and secure again.

Even after taking such a bold step, it wasn't until a month ago, when he set out to find the missing Hiccup on that Night Fury island, that the chief had actually spent any time alone with his newly-acquired dragon. It seemed that every hesitant step he took in developing his strengthened bond with Skullcrusher was spurred on by an act of desperation to protect his own son.

These young Vikings, though, whether as young as the nine-year-old Gretta or the twenty-five-year-old Grub, had started to develop a relationship with these scaly beasts with no other compulsion than the desire to... to…

Stoick slowly shook his head.

 _What drives a kid's mind is always a mystery to me._

Whatever their compulsion, they had become so comfortable in the air, after spending less than a week with dragons, that they were diving, swooping, spinning, and playing tag high in the sky. Having been on Berk for the past week, this was all new to Stoick. Gobber didn't seem concerned at all, so Stoick decided to just watch in stunned silence.

Seeing the cringe-worthy stunts they pulled in the air, it was a mystery how they could feel anything other than vertigo and terror. Just a short while ago, during the short flight in from Berk, Skullcrusher had shifted course to catch some sort of vertical winds Hiccup was always blabbing about called "thermals". The maneuver caused them to drop a bit, and for a moment, Stoick felt a sickening, head-spinning sensation as he rose up _off_ the saddle and was held down only by the harness straps. Granted, Skullcrusher wasn't trying to scare him, but the sense of weightlessness was simply unnatural. To think that these kids can just fling themselves up there like that went beyond any rationale.

As if to drive the point home, as the riders squeezed in a little more flying before the sun sunk below the sea, Stoick saw them falling – falling! – _next to_ their dragons. He had seen little Hiccup do that once and almost died from shock. The scolding he had given both son and Night Fury was heard in every home and shop in the village. How these new riders could so willingly do that was a mystery.

Once the sun set and darkness filled the sky, they all gathered around the bonfire. Gobber had explained that the students enjoyed this opportunity to share about their experiences, pester Hiccup with questions about their dragons and, of course, issue new dares and challenges to each other to perform the next day to prove their fresh-faced manliness. Tonight was special, though, being the last day of class. Aside from various bits of meat to impale on a stick over the fire, mugs, tankards, barrels, and waterskins full of ale were passed around.

Earlier, Stoick had pulled his son aside and made him agree to cover a few important things. This whole dragon training was essentially a peace offering to the nearby tribes in hopes they wouldn't all rally together and assume Berk to be a common enemy and oracle of divine knowledge, greedily hoarding some mystical wealth of dragon-taming powers in a campaign to take over the world. These new riders would go back to their tribes and be living proof that becoming a rider isn't a talent that one is born with, but a skill one can acquire. By enduring this burden of dedicating so many resources to dragon training class, these new riders could now bear the burden of training _their_ tribes.

In his own eyes, this whole thing was a desperation gambit to get the pressure off of Berk. To all the other tribal chiefs in the area, it was a small risk of a couple growing kids or disposable heirs that could be either a small loss or a great reward.

Tonight, just to be safe, Stoick wanted Hiccup to announce how futile it would be if their tribes actually did rally together to attack Berk... again. Yes, they had dragons now and could potentially win the friendship and trust of more, but all the dragons that were freed from the Red Death respected Hiccup and Toothless. In fact, they recognized the pivotal role that all the Hooligan riders and even everyone else who sailed to Dragon Island had played in their salvation. He could probably count on this to remain safe from any significant number of dragons actually attacking his island, but it wouldn't hurt to sow some seeds to dissuade any tribe from even _attempting_ such a stunt. After discussing some details, Hiccup had agreed and Stoick knew that, even though his son was subtle and divisive instead of proud and honor-driven, he would never betray something to which he swore.

As Hiccup stood up and raised a hand in request for everyone's attention, the back-and-forth daring, gloating, and chattering died down. The dragons did likewise, including Hiccup's Terrible Terror that adorned his shoulder like an ever-present, blue-scaled pauldron. Even what used to be a large, roaring bonfire a short while ago was now subdued to low flames atop a heaping pile of glowing coals, ringed by half-burned rounds.

Wisps of frost misted between Hiccup's lips as he spoke in a loud, projecting voice. At least, it was loud by _his_ standards. "If I may, I'd like to say a few things to everyone before you all fly home tomorrow. First, I just want to remind you what we had discussed about introducing your dragons to your tribes. Trust me, even though _they_ sent _you_ to become a rider, landing in the village square will be a _bad_ idea. Hide your dragon at first. Share all about your time here, play hard-to-get, and wait until they are _begging_ to see your dragon. Take _them_ to the _dragon_ , not the other way around, and only a couple at first. Also, don't be afraid to demand that everyone remove any mounted heads and such from your village beforehand. Having dragon riders is a great boon and if they want to reap the benefits, they can show how much it matters by helping the dragons feel more at home without seeing dead friends and relatives mounted on walls and draped over people's' shoulders.

"Also, some of you, like the Bogs, Greenbellies, and Hysterics may need to make it a two-day trip. Don't forget to rub lots of beeswax or bear or seal grease into your windbreaker layer as it is getting quite cold as we transition into winter. Toothless is already reminding your dragons to be mindful and considerate of your condition and to stop if they hear chattering teeth or stuttering speech. In fact, he already told them all that _and_ locations for good, uninhabited islands to rest with fresh water and caves in the time it took me to speak a single word because dragons are awesome!"

Chuckles and cheers rose up. Stoick was starting to get annoyed at the fact that Hiccup was stalling in delivering this very important message. It needed to come from the boy's own lips as they have all seen with their own eyes just how much respect he commands from the dragons. They even called him "Dragon Master". Stoick actually swelled with pride to consider that _his_ little Hiccup was undoubtedly the single most powerful Viking in the archipelago. Just as Stoick was about to remind Hiccup to tell them what needed to be said, Gobber laid a friendly hook on his shoulder.

"He'll git there." The blacksmith whispered. "Just give him time."

"He's stalling," Stoick hissed out the side of his mouth.

"Ach! He's just giv'n the message his own 'Hiccup flair'. Ya know he'd never break a promise made to your face. That's why he'd never promise he'd never jump off his bloody dragon's back ever again."

Stoick puffed out a sigh but kept an otherwise unreadable face that was his namesake.

As everyone quieted down again, Hiccup said, "Also, if I may, I'd like to share one more story with you. This one isn't about the Red Death or Toothless or his father, Tolerant, or his brother, Firebrand. This one is about his _mother_."

Surprised muttering scattered around. One person whistled loudly. Stoick exercised what he considered to be admirable patience in allowing Hiccup to insert more of his own "flair".

"Yes," Hiccup continued, "it's one thing that makes the two of us alike. We both lost our mother at about one year old. I mentioned that dragons have an amazingly perfect memory of every impression since they first cracked their egg, but Toothless can't recall much about this period in his life. He suspects the dem- I mean the Red Death did something to him to make him forget."

Someone, a fierce-sounding female, shouted out, "How can you tell us about her if Toothless has no memories? I'm sure _you_ weren't there on that Night Fury island or whatever it was they lived on as an infant."

Hiccup chuckled. Stoick sighed.

 _Don't encourage the boy!_

"Excellent point, Sigvor of the Murderous tribe," Hiccup said "You're absolutely right. However, some of the _other_ dragons here witnessed her last night alive. Toothless was taken when the Red Death sent a dragon raid for just that purpose. Some of those dragons are with us here, tonight."

Surprised remarks propagated through the crowd as the new riders gave curious glances at their dragons. Stoick narrowed his eyes. Something was up. Hiccup wasn't simply wasting time with idle chatter. The spark in his eyes indicated that he was going somewhere with this. How it related to the important message was a mystery, though.

Hiccup continued, "When that dragon raid came, Toothless' mother, who I have named 'Beyond Brave', attacked them all by herself while Tolerant took the hatchlings to safety. The plan was to buy some time to get the hatchlings into the dark, narrow caves where Tolerant would have a great advantage over any of the invading force. It is not normal for a mother dragon to show such dedication toward her babies, but she knew it was these raids in past generations that whittled down the population in that area so much that there was only that one single Night Fury family left.

"You see, this was not their first clutch, but it was the first one where the babies lasted so long. You think _you_ had it rough with the dragon raids, but none of us have seen the worst of it. There was a very real chance that this one raid could be the felling stroke to completely wipe out all dragons in that area who weren't under the control of the Red Death's mind snare.

"So, with everything to lose, Beyond brave fought with such single-minded determination and fury that earned her name a thousand times over. Even one against hundreds, _dozens_ of dragons fell before she died. Having seen it for myself, I can tell you it is a very sad tale."

"Wait," someone said in a youthful, baritone voice, "can your unspoken words _really_ do that? Can you really see what happened?"

Hiccup smiled. "Actually, Hauk, yes. You've seen me play catch while blindfolded, relying on Toothless' vision to catch things. Same with seeing past memories. I wasn't kidding when I said a dragon can share everything between the ears – ideas, feelings, sight, sound, the... perception of... no, the aura that people... gods, I can't even describe it. Some of the stuff I get from Toothless makes me feel like I'm getting punched in the brain – in a good way."

"That is _awesome_!"

Hiccup smiled and made a gesture. A Monstrous Nightmare took a hop forward to nuzzle his hand. Stoick figured it must have been a silent command with his unspoken words.

Hiccup went on, saying, "Hammond, your dragon, Inferno, was there. She was, as best as I can figure, maybe eleven years old at the time. The dragons all knew that the Red Death makes them feed themselves to her at a certain age, which I'm pretty sure is about thirty years old. Inferno said she was surprised she wasn't already terminated before the Red Death was destroyed."

"Holy shit!" Hammond shouted. He then looked around sheepishly. "Uhh, thanks for taking out the Red Death before she ate Inferno. She's a good girl."

Hammond smiled and the dragon trilled.

Hiccup said, "I wish I could claim my motives were so righteous at the time, but I'm glad to have Inferno around, too. Anyway, she has shown me her memories of that raid that took Toothless away. Her father was the first to attack Beyond Brave, but not the first to die.

"Before there was any contact, Beyond Brave charged up a massive fireball. Toothless has shown me that the longer he gathers fuel in his mouth before releasing it, the more pain he feels. It's a self-preservation mechanism to prevent him from going overboard on a single shot. Beyond Brave ignored all pain and caution with that first blast and struck the center of the dragon cluster. Six dropped right there. Inferno's father rushed ahead of the others, all lit up, but couldn't even touch Beyond Brave before she suddenly shot up above him, spun around, and clamped down on his neck."

Hiccup placed a hand on Inferno's snout as he pressed his forehead against hers in a solemn moment as if to comfort the dragon and give some silent consolation. The Nightmare retreated to settle down by Hammond, who stared at his dragon with fascinated awe. By now, Hiccup was starting to fidget with little Dart, unconsciously doing some mix between lightly wringing the Terror against his chest and holding one arm above the other to give it a perpetual ladder to climb.

He eventually collected himself and beckoned to a Nadder, who chirped and took a hop forward. Hiccup casually rubbed a finger along a large scar that spanned the dragon's torso, visible between the scales. The glow of the flickering flames of the dying bonfire seemed to make it jump out and demand attention. Shocked murmurs spread around as people waited with baited breath in anticipation of how this story would relate to this dragon.

"Your Nadder was also there, Svala. Beyond Brave managed to get a claw in, here. She was trying to get some traction to reach for a killing bite, but a Nightmare grabbed her left foreleg. Unfortunately, that Nightmare isn't around today to thank for saving your dragon's life. Beyond Brave broke his spine and then bit..."

Hiccup's breath caught. The Nadder crooned and licked him and it seemed to give him strength. A lump shifted under his coat in tempo with a sort of sobbing croon. Stoick realized that lump must be the now-absent Dart. He also noticed the green eyes of Toothless staring longingly at his rider, all tensed up but motionless. Hiccup had worked with his dragon like this before, teaching the overprotective beast to let Hiccup fight his own battles and accept hardships alone. Telling this story shouldn't be a hardship, though. It was actually quite inspiring and moving, like something a chief would recite to his people before they face down an invading army.

Hiccup regained control of his breathing and pressed on. "She bit her own leg off so she wouldn't be dragged down with the Nightmare. It was like she didn't even _feel_ pain. She shot a fireball at a Zippleback, which struck at the base of its necks. You've seen Toothless' fireball when he was fishing. It's not a slow-burning thing, but an explosive blast that can shatter bones and logs. Imagine what Beyond Brave's blast did to that poor thing. She leaped from dragon to dragon, shooting fire, biting at necks and wings. Countless dragons stretched forth their claws and teeth to take her life. Her scales fell like rain. She got hit by so many quills, you would mistake her for a porcupine. A Nadder's white-hot fire got her wing and most of it charred away, but she just leaped from dragon to dragon, slashing, biting, and shooting out fire. A Timberjack managed to hack her tail near the base, but Beyond brave just twisted in the air and…"

Hiccup bumped his head against the Nadder's horn. "Tore the Timberjack's... head off. Every time Beyond Brave suffered injury, it didn't slow her down at all. It only made her even more enraged and all the more dangerous. Those dragons... they... they... fell like rain."

He gave a pat to the Nadder's snout and the dragon started walking back to Svala, who ran up and hugged the dragon's neck tight, pressing her face against the scales. Hiccup motioned for another dragon to join him, a Gronckle this time. Thuggory jumped to his feet and tensed up, but Hiccup's sad smile seemed to settle him down. Stoick relaxed as he pieced together where Hiccup was going with all this. It was indeed a bit of flair to ease into the important message. The picture he was painting was like old stories of great heroes who fought like a mythological demigod of vengeance... like a fire jötnar.

"Yes, Thuggory, Forge was there as well. He has a clear memory of watching Beyond Brave die. No, he wasn't the one to finally take her down or he wouldn't be here today. A Nightmare managed to wrap his teeth around her neck. You know how Nightmares are with that locked jaw. Alive or dead, once they latch onto something, they will never let go until they choose to. At that very same moment, a Gronckle clamped down on her remaining wing. She broke the Nightmare's neck and the Gronckle's wing before they even hit the ground. Needless to say, Forge is _very_ happy he wasn't _that_ Gronckle."

Forge return to his rider. Despite all the fidgeting with his Terror, Stoick couldn't help but feel proud of his son, whose fingers were wrapped around all of their hearts. _This_ is what a leader _does_. He inspires loyalty and action in his people. His battle cry drives fear into his enemies. His conversations make it clear that to oppose him is the worst decision anyone can ever make. His wrath is an inferno that cleanses the world of any threat to his people.

Hiccup continued, "Through these dragons, I have seen all this as if I were there. I heard Beyond Brave's heart-stopping roar. I saw the fury burn in her eyes. I heard the pained shrieks as she-" Hiccup swallowed, "as she tore through dragon after dragon. I felt the hatred, the rage, the bloodlust, the absolute terror."

He stiffly grabbed a tankard from the ground and raised it up. Dart poked his snout in and sniffed, but backed away as if it was an eel.

"I've always hated this stuff, but I'll gladly make an exception this time. I'd like to propose a toast to Beyond Brave."

Someone shouted out, "To a truly fierce warrior!" and was met with enthusiastic cheers of agreement.

Hiccup held up a hand and people seemed to be caught off-guard that he wasn't drinking yet. Mugs and tankards were already at everyone's lips before they realized the toast wasn't finished. Stoick allowed a small smile to cross his face. All this could only be building up to the important message.

"Not just her," Hiccup said as the confused chatter died down. "I propose a toast to her and _all_ the dragons that died during that raid, who were manipulated to fight a war that was not theirs, for a cause that did not concern _them_. The Red Death _made_ them fight. The Red Death is responsible for _their_ deaths. _That_ is why I would sooner die than see another Red Death arise!"

Cheers erupted and mugs were raised. Hiccup held up a hand to indicate he wasn't finished.

"We've seen, from the little brawl between Vigdis and Bolvurk, how quickly a dragon can become so attached to his rider that he would fight alongside his rider without even knowing what they're fighting _for_. Such is the loyalty of a dragon when you earn their trust. _That_ is why I cannot allow your own tribes to fashion themselves into a Red Death."

People started looking furtively at each other. They were clearly uneasy, but nobody spoke. Dart hung limp in Hiccup's hands, unharmed, but resigned to his fate as a stress reliever.

Hiccup continued, saying, "Dragons will always be my first priority, so I'll ask you a question. How many of you come from a tribe that currently has caged dragons on your island? Tell me, how many of you have apothecaries and hunters trying to capture and _tame_ them?"

Confused and alarmed murmuring rippled through all the new riders. People were exchanging accusatory glares at each other and concerned glances at their dragons. The look in Hiccup's eyes reminded Stoick that, for how much he wanted to be a stern chief and a caring father, it had all been a walk on thin ice.

Hiccup spoke up to be heard, saying, "You've seen proofs of a dragon's amazing memory. Even if they can't understand spoken words, even if our projected thoughts are muddy, they can recall the sounds they hear and repeat them to anyone who can hear _them_. Dragons are very loose-lipped, after all. Every single word that any person has ever spoken near a dragon is something I and any other dragon whisperer can hear. Every single rune that has ever passed by their eyes, even though they cannot read, _I_ can. Even the things you whisper, like when Thuggory told Vigdis certain _lies_ to make her attack Bolvurk-"

Hiccup's voice was lost in a storm of shouting. Thuggory paled. Bolvurk was shocked, then thoughtful, then glared at Thuggory. Stoick could barely pick out threats and accusations being made by everyone as they began to realize the implications of what was just said. He too was caught by surprise and was about to have a stern word with his son. Starting some sort of conspiracy theory like this would be very bad.

Before he could do anything, though, deafening roars from all thirty-plus dragons gathered around drowned out the shouting. Hiccup calmly removed his fingers from his ear canals and smiled at the sudden silence.

"Thank you," he casually said. "As I was saying, dragons have an amazing memory. Also, Toothless has an amazing range at which he can speak and hear the unspoken words." He lightly ran his knuckles across the sensor lobes that crowned the Night Fury's head. "These little puppies allow him to project far and wide and also allow him to be sensitive enough to hear dragons from leagues away. If your caged dragons aren't released within two weeks of your return, if your dragon has something to say that we should hear, it can be heard without you even being able to see us. I want to make it clear that-"

Again, shouting rose up to drown him out. Again, the deafening roars of all the dragons silenced them. Hiccup gave an easy smile at the angry glares.

"I'm _still_ talking. Yes, your suspicion that I plan on keeping track of your dragon's treatment is accurate. The dragons will _always_ be first in my eyes. I don't give one steaming pile of yak shit what your _tribe_ does. You're Vikings, and Vikings will be Vikings. Let them drink blood! It is not my concern if your tribes raid each other, burn villages, take slaves, take women captive and-"

"HICCUP!" Stoick bellowed out.

Hiccup said, "I'm getting there, Dad. Promise."

"Stop dawdling."

People started muttering in confusion, probably wondering what this was about. They quieted down as Hiccup raised a hand, probably wary of another deafening blast.

"Now, this is the part where you might expect me to make a threat, like, if you dare to attack Berk... no, I'm not going to say anything like that. I love my home and I will protect it; that's a given and don't forget that Toothless was spawned by Beyond Brave!"

Toothless reared back with his wings spread and gave a loud, proud, defiant roar that actually made Stoick's hair stand up on end. Little Dart hopped to the ground and gave a similar display that managed to be both adorable and respectable at the same time. The proud Night Fury then ducked his head down to scoop up his rider.

Hiccup balanced himself on the dragon's head and said, "Stole the words _right_ out of my mouth, Bud."

Looking up at the others, he said, louder, "I really don't care if you bash each other's heads in. I think it's sad and stupid, but I have bigger fish to fry. If you use your _dragons_ in such conquest, though, then I and every tribe and every _dragon_ in the Barbaric Archipelago will know about it before the smoke even clears. I'll let you draw your _own_ conclusions."

With a sudden lightening of his mood and a smile, he said, "So, with that bit of business out of the way, I propose a toast to a better future for the dragons!"

With that, Hiccup took a swig from his tankard. By now, everyone was confused, muttering, accusing, defending, shouting, toast forgotten, casting measuring stares at Hiccup to see if he would make all the dragons roar again.

Sigvor shouted, "What if you lie? Everyone does it. I may believe your accusation of Thuggory instigating a fight from behind the scenes, but how can I really know? You can only imagine the response if you deceive everyone by saying that we would do something so cowardly as to, say, swoop in on a dragon and capture someone from the Thunderhead tribe. Do you really expect us to accept you as some... keeper of the peace?"

Her accusation was met with shouts of approval.

Hiccup casually leaned forward on his perch and said, "Again, a very good observation, Sigvor. You are absolutely right. My 'blowing the horn' is valid _only_ to the degree to which you can trust me and, well, I _am_ only human. However, must I be the _only_ dragon whisperer in the Archipelago? You've all heard me preaching about getting to know your dragon and spending time on your own doing these meditation sessions we've been doing in the mornings. Every one of you can become a dragon whisperer. Like all good things, it just takes time, effort, and patience. Some of you are starting to hear a little bit from your dragon already. They can tell and are ecstatic about it.

"Soon, you can have full conversations with any dragon that allows you to touch him. Your dragon can even act as a relay so you can speak to another dragon from a distance through _your_ dragon. Tofa is proof it is possible to learn to hear them without physical contact, though nobody else has succeeded at that, yet. Maybe you have to learn at a very young age, when your mind is more malleable, so train your future children. You can imagine how often your tribe will be sending you, as a rider, to deliver a message to a neighboring tribe or ferry your chief for a negotiation. A single rider and his dragon is ten times faster than a ship and takes one-tenth the people to make the trip. You can catch up on the latest dragon gossip. Rumors can be quickly verified. Lies can be shot down."

Stoick scowled and hissed to Gobber, "This is not the message I told him to deliver."

Gobber chuckled. "Well, ya did jus' say to make it clear dragons respect him and that attacking Berk is a bad idea. With his little demonstration tonight and his story of the devil that spawned Toothless, I'd say he hit the succulent points."

"That's not what I wanted and he knows it!"

"If ya consider the hair-splitting technicalities, he could say he carried out his promise. Gotta hand it to ya, Stoick, ya really did raise a clever little boy."

"Sometimes I really want to wring his clever little neck."

"You and me both."

Hiccup held up a hand and said, "If I may propose one more toast... I promise you will like this one a lot better."

The fervent dialogs settled down eventually to whispers. It was clear everyone was still digesting the implications behind what Hiccup had said.

He smiled. "Thank you. Now, both Vikings and dragons love to compete. I know this personally as I've always been the worst at everything until Toothless came along. Well, I still _am_ the worst at everything that defines a _Viking_ , but fortunately, riding a dragon isn't a very Viking thing now, is it?

"To help us grow up with our dragons in a productive way, I propose we weave them into our competitions and games, like Thawfest. We've occasionally had a couple tribes together for such events and festivities, but now that we have _dragons_... imagine the _possibilities_! It would be easier done than said to get several tribes in an area together. The Thorston twins have already started brewing up some ideas for games we could play with our dragons. One involves traumatizing sheep by racing around a course and competing to gather them up or something like that.

"I think it would be a lot of fun, would help draw us together so we can prosper together, and-" Hiccup winked. "Even allow you to catch up on the latest gossip from both dragons and Vikings from the other tribes. Now, nothing is certain. This is the first my father has heard about it, but I encourage you to suggest such an idea to _your_ tribes.

"So, a toast to us. To a long and prosperous relationship between dragons and Vikings across the entire Archipelago!"

Hiccup emptied his tankard with a face that suggested how much he didn't like ale. Some people voiced their approval and did likewise. Others were still dumbstruck with absorbing all that just happened.

Hiccup walked up to Stoick, slid off his dragon's head, and looked up at his father with a sagging but proud sort of posture. For a while, they just stared at each other. The boy's face was pale, and for the lack of sweat and blood beading on his skin, he all but looked like a man who had just returned from war. A weary sort of relief adorned the face that looked up at the chief.

"Moving story," Stoick grunted.

"Thanks."

"Dragon gossip?"

"Yeah, I figured it would help protect the dragons from being used to fight a war that is not theirs."

"And what of your _tribe_? You were supposed to tell them that all the other freed dragons would protect Berk with the respect we earned from destroying the Red Death."

Hiccup shrugged. "I did what I felt was right."

"You disobeyed me! I hope that I'll see my son stand up for his tribe _some_ day before I turn to ash!"

Hiccup looked at the ground. "Sorry, Dad."

Stoick pinched his nose as a headache started to rise up. Even after these last couple years, even with a Night Fury as a constant shadow and the respect of hundreds of dragons, the boy was still little Hiccup. He still just does his own thing and offers an apology without any promise or hope of change.

 _Some things never change._

"Hiccup, this is not what a leader does."

"The dragons look up to me as an example. I'm _their_ leader, too, in some sense. I'm trying to make you proud, but I'm sorry I didn't turn out the way you wanted."

Toothless warbled and tucked Hiccup's shoulder under his neck. The boy smiled wide and wrapped his arms around the dragon's snout.

Stoick sighed. The way they both looked at him with identical expressions of determination in their green eyes... they would always be two incomplete parts of a greater whole. One was the ax head while the other was the handle. Neither would ever be complete without the other.

The fact that he couldn't relate to his son nor reason with the Night Fury only made it more difficult. Gaining that dragon as a loyal companion was the best thing that ever happened to the boy. It gave him that much-needed confidence that the father had always been trying to draw out all along. Unfortunately, the dragon's influence made Hiccup too brash and stubborn, sometimes.

"Toothless, I hate you so much I love you."

The dragon huffed. Hiccup said, "Toothless says he loves you too, Dad. - _We_ \- love you, too. Even if we don't always express it properly."


	23. Peace Finally!

**Peace. Finally!**

Toothless delicately placed one paw in front of the other, knees bent, body held low, claws secure against the angled top of the wooden caves that these land-striders like to sleep in. He really didn't want to disturb anyone, which was a rare thing for a hyperactive dragon for whom the notion of privacy was a quaint novelty. Tonight was the last night for these new riders before they all flew off to their own nests and tomorrow would be their first flight so far away from the island.

Firefly and Zealot were just ahead and below, somewhere on the ground. They were the main reason Toothless wanted to remain unnoticed by anyone. He could feel their mental hum and it sounded like the most beautiful song.

Both of them had a lot of reason to celebrate. While the future was full of uncertainty, Firefly stood up for the dragons and did what was right in his eyes. Stalwart was loud in telling how dissatisfied he was, but both Toothless and Firefly saw past it. Toothless was happy that things went as well as they did. This would be a great weight taken off his back with everyone else now bearing the burden of leading the land-striders in this area into a new, strange future with dragons.

Of course, Firefly bore the greatest burden. He fought a war against the world. He wore compassion and trust like layers of scales, even though he was surrounded by other land-striders and dragons that naturally respond to things in a manner much more... coarse. Someday, he would become the alpha of his nest and doing what he believes is right will become even more difficult. There was a time when he had gone through a phase of wanting to just leave and never come back, to explore the world, to let them all figure things out without pestering him. However, he ended up finding a balance between that now fading desire and his rooted loyalty to his people. After the season of ice and wind passes and the weather gets better for flying again, he decided to settle for just looking around to find his dragon a mate and maybe even find Firebrand.

Toothless voiced his appraisal of this idea by sitting on his rider and gnawing on his head.

However, he knew he would comply if Firefly really insisted. He always trusted his rider more than himself. Little Firefly demonstrated time and time again that he can see tomorrow, even if he always forgets what happened today. He says it sometimes is just a thought that sprouts from nowhere, like his wild imagination that conjures forth the artifacts he invents. Some believe that an all-powerful being whispers in his ears and controls his dreams. Regardless, it was these whispers that told him to befriend a maimed dragon he had shot down instead of killing it.

Tonight, he must have heard the whispers again as he conjured up a blindingly brilliant plan to solve all his current problems. He showed them that spending the time and effort to become a dragon whisperer would be critical not just for the riders, but for their packs on their various islands. They could no longer afford _not_ to be able to hear dragons, so now each rider's dragon will soon be able to voice his own thoughts on any matter. Dragonkind will be represented on every island these new riders fly to because the land-strider could no longer accept any alternative.

In retrospect, it was only logical, but to come up with such an idea in the first place was nothing short of clairvoyance. In a single night, Firefly just removed from his own shoulders all the weight of responsibility and guilt for any suffering to either land-strider or dragon. That was all up to these new riders and their dragons, now, and Firefly could simply be an advisor. He would observe, correct, and if anyone was abusing this relationship between rider and dragon, well, just the threat of everyone else finding out would be enough to keep them in line.

After revealing his plan to everyone, he had questioned Toothless at length about how the land-striders and dragons reacted to all he said in thinking with his lips. Their reactions were clear to see in the hum of their passive projections. There was nothing to worry about. The new riders would sooner attack each other than invade Firefly's nest. When they returned back to their own nests, they would fight to protect their dragon from harm or enslavement.

Well, there was one who didn't have to worry about that as he had no dragon. He came from the island called Rude Lava or something like that. Some of the little mink dragons would surely end up with him, though, considering how much they enjoyed playing with him. Besides, his fellow land-strider from the same island and her dragon could provide a ride. All in all, these new riders were clearly developing a greater respect for dragons and, Toothless was confident, would not betray their dragon's trust.

As for the dragons themselves, they already knew they had hard times ahead. They would need to be cautious. Just as the land-striders accepted a position of vulnerability the day these dragons first landed, the dragons must now trust in their rider to keep them out of harm's way. They already knew that some of the land-strider islands still had caged dragons, but that will surely change very soon. Who knows; maybe all the activity in hunting, trapping, and killing dragons in this area will slow down or cease. Either way, Toothless wasn't concerned. Dragons take care of themselves. It's no scales off his own hide if they allow themselves to get into trouble.

Still, he couldn't help but feel proud of his Firefly for trying to make a difference for others and succeeding so magnificently at it. In fact, Toothless was so proud of his enigmatic rider that he couldn't restrain himself from licking him. He was also proud of Zealot for learning to fight against her alpha dominant nature, so he licked her. He was proud of Salvation for overcoming his crippling fear of dragons, so he licked him too. He was proud of Hack and Slash's massive rider, who was still unnamed, who demonstrated how quickly a land-strider could embrace dragons – literally – so Toothless tackled and sat on him. _Then_ he licked him. Hack and Slash and a group of little dragons also decided to bestow their licks upon his face.

Toothless was even proud of Stalwart. Suffice to say, nothing was held sacred and the tongue would not be denied. He then spent a long time licking rocks and trees – not because he was proud of them for existing but rather to get rid of the long hairs he inadvertently licked up from Stalwart's massive mane. Lesson learned; next time, lick Skullcrusher instead.

At the moment, it felt like all the stress and doubts had faded away. Now that all the fighting with lips, feasting, drinking, rolling around in dragon nip, and licking land-striders was passed, most of them were asleep.

Most, but not all.

Toothless took another soft step and crouched down before flicking his eyes up. The thick clouds still hung heavy overhead, blocking any light from the stars and moon. Firefly had told his dragon about how a starry night can make it possible to track an airborne dragon from the ground, even if that dragon cannot be seen. He used that clever trick the night he shot Toothless down. Granted, even if he was spotted, Toothless knew he would not be shot down here. It's not like there was a dragon raid going on or anything like that.

 _Yet._

Another silent step. Another silent exhale. As he neared the edge, he let his wings splay out for balance. Little Dart shifted from his perch on the black dragon's head. Normally, any attempt for any creature that wasn't Firefly to mount Toothless would be met with disdain and a rude introduction to the ground, but not this time. He was in an especially good mood. It was only natural that his rider's feelings seep into his dragon as well. After all, an angry rider makes for an angry dragon; Happy rider, happy dragon. As it was for all dragons, their rider's mood would trickle in. For Toothless, though, it was always a deluge.

Another silent step. Toothless held his breath as he stretched his neck forward to look down at the ground. His prize stood there, pressed against the side of the wooden cave, eyes closed with a big, goofy grin from ear to ear. At least, Toothless could tell that's what he _would_ be seeing if his rider's face wasn't covered by the long fur that spewed out of the top of Zealot's head.

He didn't need to see his rider to know he was happy. Genuinely, extremely happy. High as a dragon in a field of dragon nip after an exciting flight sort of happy. Toothless carefully breathed out a silent sigh of contentment. He could feel it in his rider's emotional hum. It seeped in between his scales and made him feel relaxed and care-free. This is what Toothless had spent the past several days fighting for, but it was worth the struggle.

For all Firefly had accomplished tonight, it all paled compared to his greatest victory, who was currently using her body to press Firefly against the side of the wooden cave. His method to get her to stop pushing him down to do things her own way was simple, really. Agree with each and every grievance she had about his own faults and she would be forced to argue to the contrary. When he caught on to what his rider was doing and that it was actually working, Toothless could only stare on with his jaw hanging to the ground. Hookfang also noticed that this actually worked and started cawing like a crow. The workings of a land-strider's mind sometimes make no sense at all.

After all their fighting, going back and forth in their thinking with lips, Firefly and Zealot finally used those lips for a much more joyful – although still pointless – purpose. They had been taking turns cleaning each other's lower lip long after any blemishes had been cleared away. Sure, licking is a great way to clean those you care about and show them affection, but this was becoming obnoxious. It was a silly thing, but Toothless took it for a sign of what it really meant. Firefly was fierce – in his usual, gentle, subtle way – in winning her favor and they had gotten over what was driving them apart. As a result, they had all the more respect and compassion for each other.

Granted, they were put in this state with the assistance of a certain sort of brown water that land-striders seem to treasure so greatly. The pair of land-striders from one of the islands, the Heads Made of Meat, had brought a large amount of this brown water with them instead of food animals and were the praise of all the land-striders. They had saved enough of it so they could all drink their fill as they stayed up late into the night to celebrate their triumphs in befriending dragons instead of getting eaten by them. It smelled like eels and tasted like death, but if it helped Firefly and Zealot be happy, then Toothless would be happy they drank so much of it.

For a long while, he just perched there in his precarious crouch, looking down on them, simply allowing their feelings to wash over him. He was so focused on the pair below that he hadn't noticed there was someone watching _him_ until he heard a loud, sharp roar immediately to his right. It felt like he jumped out of his own scales as he lost his traction and fell down to the ground below. As he lay there, sprawled out on his back, he didn't even have to reach out with his senses to see what caused his heart to leap into his throat.

If there ever was a dragon that lived up to its name, Toothless certainly was not it. Teaser, though, was getting more devious and inventive as she spent more time with her rider. With all the joy he was feeling from his rider, though, it was impossible to snarl and threaten Teaser. It just didn't matter when Firefly was looking down at his dragon with a very surprised – but happy – face.

Still on his back, Toothless simply opened his mouth wide to let out a great, cavernous yawn and stretched out his wings and legs as if he meant to fall down all along. It made for a dramatic entrance and was quite relaxing, after all. The reaction from the two riders was certainly entertaining. Zealot instantly cringed at having been discovered cleaning Firefly's lips and pushed away as if they were doing nothing at all while Firefly simply giggled. In fact, Firefly found it _so_ amusing that he felt it only fitting to stumble over absolutely nothing at all and slump against his dragon's neck.

Zealot started to fidget and back away, mewling out some excuse about how she needs to leave at this very moment for unknown reasons.

 _Oh no you don't!_

Toothless didn't want their joy to end just because he was there, so he rolled to his feet, grabbed the protesting female with his toothless gums, and dragged her back, plopping her down next to Firefly. He then proceeded to sprawl out next to them and pulled them in with his paws. Firefly's laughing intensified, as did Zealot's squirming. Her face turned the most lovely shade of red.

Granted, their activities wouldn't get any more amusing than they had been, already. Toothless had seen land-striders mate – unknown to them, of course – and mating is definitely _not_ what Firefly and Zealot were doing. Firefly had already explained that they would not mate for quite a while. Zealot was some sort of respected female because she was dedicated to not being a mate for a certain duration. It didn't make any sense whatsoever, but then again, land-striders seem to relish senselessness.

Stormfly, having noticed the commotion and seemingly able to read the black dragon's intents, rushed in and sprawled out to use her head and wings to press the two riders even closer to Toothless' belly. They needed this and it was fortuitous that Firefly was not protesting such treatment from his dragon. Zealot eventually ceased in her struggles as she realized neither dragon would relent. Toothless rewarded her with some extra-loud purring so that she could feel it through Firefly's body. The air was cold, but wedged between two dragons, the riders were quite warm.

Eventually, they both settled down. Their intoxicating, peaceful joy that was interrupted by a falling dragon had returned again. They held each other's paws in the way only land-striders could with those opposable talons. With Toothless' purring and Stormfly's crooning and humming, they ended up drifting to sleep. Toothless stayed awake for a while, just enjoying the moment. His tail gently swished across the ground and bumped into something. That something wrapped around his tail and he returned the gesture as Stormfly let out a sleepy trill.

It was the most peaceful sleep the four of them ever had in a long time.

* * *

 **A/N:  
** "Really?"

"What?"

"You know what, Fizz."

"Well, Tooth, I'll have you know that _I_ thought it was a good enough ending. Tie the loose ends, leave room for the imagination to wander a bit."

"You really had Teaser scare the crap out of me?"

"Well, not _literally_ -"

"And don't think I'm not on to how you're just writing from my perspective to quickly glaze over lengthy drama."

"Shhh! Everyone, don't listen to Toothless!"

"I think the reader wants me to eat you."

"Your loss. I probably taste like potato chips and ice cream. I'd give a carnivore like you indigestion."

"Yeah... guess so. I'll just spit you out, then. But still eat you for the sake of principle. Ya know, like, eat one limb at a time and then-"

"Ok, we don't need to hear that. Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for reading my little story and congratulations for making it to the end. Really, though, _you_ should be thanking _me_ because my story is so amazing and-"

"PHBHBHBHB!"

"Anyway, I want to ask you to consider doing me a favor."

"Fizz just wants you to like, favorite, subscribe, share..."

"No, no, not that. I _hate_ it when people beg for favorites and reviews at the beginning and end of every chapter. Nothing makes me stop reading faster than saying, 'I need more people stroking my ego for me to stay motivated to post more.'"

"So, what my flesh-bound friend is trying to say is leave a scathing comment."

"Actually, yeah."

"... What?"

"Or a private message. Whichever. I'm just asking for any feedback if you've noticed something in particular lacking in the story that you deem noteworthy. Ya know, maybe it looked good to my eyes, but I may have botched a scene that could have been so much better. Maybe one of the characters from the movie stuck out to you as being very inaccurately represented compared to how they would behave in the movies-"

"Or just tell Fizz that he needs more chapters with the most strongest, fastest, burninatious, and, ummm, sexiest Night Fury."

"Oookaaay, that's awkward."

" _Or_ tell him that he really needs to get _me_ into an Iron Man suit – but, ya know, for dragons – and go flying around with jet-packs and lasers and missiles and heavy metal and stuff."

"... Right. Or tell me of some part of the story you thought was really lame and disappointing. Ya know, _aside_ from the scenes with Toothless."

"I am officially coiling my haunches to lunge and maul you."

"Oops, hehe. I suddenly have to go. Just remember you could always just-"

"Fizz, If you tell them to stroke your ego, I will bite off your head."

"What, me say that? I would never... I mean, hahahahohohoooo. Good one Toothless. Why would I ever – WOAH! Look! A firefly!"

"What?! Where?"

"Stroke my ego! You'll never get meeeeee!"

"Get back here, you son of a monkey! RAAAAAAAAAA!"


	24. Beware

**A/N:**  
I dunno why, but I've always wanted to cram a stupid little blooper reel at the end of one of my stories. Why? Ummm, I dunno. I should warn you, though, that this is not really part of the story. I mean, this is so out-of-character that I have dragons talking. Ya know how my author's notes have been pretty silly and nonsensical? Well, multiply by 10 and this is what we end up with.

Really, though, don't read this.

I'm serious.

Turn back now, before it's too late!

Ruuuunuun!

* * *

 **Blooper: Wing Bump**

A cloud of snow billowed up on impact. Stalwart slid off the dragon's side and landed in a crouch with his large shiny claw pulled out and ready for action. Both rider and dragon were unsure of what to do, though. Toothless and Firefly were nearby, but they seemed to be hurt. There were a couple other black dragons of the same species as Toothless. One of them appeared to be dead.

Skullcrusher's attention was jolted back to his enemy as a jolt of lightning arced through him. It was weak, though. She was quite expended, but the shock was enough to cause Skullcrusher to jump back without giving his body permission to do so and he felt a tingling sensation along his entire lower side.

The enemy half-limped and half flew away. Even in the dark, crimson droplets could be seen splattered on the snow. The enemy had been hurt by more than just the fall. She would not get far before Skullcrusher could claim vengeance for her attack on his friends.

However, his heart plummeted to his stomach as he realized where she was flying off to - it wasn't that far away. With one swift landing, Toothless' rider, the one who saved the dragons, the precious little Firefly, was laid out on his back.

"Cut!" shouted FizzleMcSchnizzle - or "Fizz", as everyone called him - as he scurried forward to the Skrill and Hiccup. "Reset, everyone. Hic, you good?"

Cameramen, lighting crew, and other support staff moved to prepare to record the scene again. One of them muttered, "Take three, I guess."

"Yeah, " Hiccup said, "I'm fine. The Skrill hit me with her wing, but I'm fine." He glanced at the medical personnel who, for all the potential injuries they were mumbling off in a checklist as they inspected him, knew nothing about privacy. "Really." Looking down at his sternum, he said, "Hmm, I gotta get this gash decal reapplied. It's starting to peel off."

Fizz nodded and turned to the Skrill. "What happened, there? You're supposed to leap and land _over_ him, not _next_ to him and smack him with your wing."

"It's the wind!" The Skrill huffed. "And I'm not used to such a maneuver. _You_ try a precise leap and glide while trying to realistically feign injury! Oh, wait, you can't, 'cause you don't have wings."

Fizz waved his hands placatingly. "Alright, ma'am, fair enough. Still, we really can't afford to risk Hiccup getting hurt, so could I ask you to do a couple practice pounces? I'll set up a target over here for you to aim at. Get a few good pounces in a row and we'll go again. Can you do that for me?"

The Skrill gave a subtle nod and loped away. Off to the side, Firebrand said to Toothless, "Well, you can tell she ain't no Night Fury, 'cause we _never_ miss."

The Skrill turned and snarled.

"Alright, alright," Fizz said, stepping between the two and holding out his hands. "Let's keep things professional here, Firebrand, or I'll start playing smooth jazz and fling eels at you. If that's not enough, I am officially threatening to sing."

* * *

 **Deleted Scene: Monstrous Nightmare Flight Training**

Snotlout sat tall and proud astride the neck of his Monstrous Nightmare, who casually leaned on one wing against the side of the longhouse. Surrounding him were five other Monstrous Nightmares with their riders.

"Alright, ladies, listen up," Snotlout said. "Riding a Nightmare may look easy when _I'm_ doing it," he poked a thumb to his puffed-out chest, "but it's actually quite tricky."

Glinn casually inspected her fingernails as she said, "Didn't seem so hard when Hunky 'n I went for a cruise yesterday."

Snotlout gave a sideways glance at her. "Excuse me, but I believe I'm the _teacher_ and _you_ are the _listener_.

"Ya mean student?"

Snotlout threw his hands up. "Whatever!"

"All I'm sayin' is that Hunky and I spent a lot less time 'It' than you and Hoookfang."

"I was _letting_ you win because I'm a _gentleman_ ," Snotlout said as he folded his arms over his chest. "Besides, it's one thing to not fall off your dragon, but another to not make your dragon _want_ to throw you off." Hookfang snorted and bucked, causing Snotlout to yelp as he struggled to hold on. "Hey, Hookey it wasn't _my_ fault we hit that tree. The turbulence caught _your_ wings and- OOF!"

Hookfang rolled onto his back to pin Snotlout to the ground.

"Also," Snotlout wheezed out from his cramped position, "Hunky is a terrible name for a dragon. That's almost as bad as-" He looked over at Toothless, who curled his lips. "Okay, Mr. T, you're right, Hunky is an even _worse_ name than Toothless."

Toothless snorted. Glinn harrumphed as her dragon swished about to walk away.

"Good!" Fizz said as he walked forward onto the set. "Excellent. We can call that a print, I think. Thank you for controlling your tittering this time, Glinn. I know, Hunky is a funny name, ain't it. Alright, everyone, mount up. We'll get the drones in the air and get some shots of the attempted flying V formation. This ought to be interesting. This is the scene where Camicazi and Teaser start pranking other dragons and riders in-flight, so I need some extra Nadders up there in case anyone falls. I really don't wanna be peeling anyone off the rocks with a spatula. Bad for business."

Fizz paused for laughter that never came in response to his stupid joke, then clapped his hands. "Well, any questions? No? Good, let's go."

Hookfang rolled back over to his belly and Snotlout picked himself up and stretched out. He then gave his dragon an affectionate slap on the neck and swung up into the saddle.

"Before we go," Snotlout said, looking over at Toothless, "there's something I really gotta do. Hit it, T-man!"

Toothless mashed the Play button on a boombox with one of his claws and music started.

Fizz slapped a palm to his face. "Why did I authorize singing and dancing at will between scenes? What was I thinking? The twins and their Zipp almost destroyed the set and Fishlegs 'opera'", Fizz made exaggerated air-quotes, "almost killed me."

Gobber sidled over and said, "Or _were_ ya thinkin' in the first place? My two cents, I think it's helping. Say what you will, it really does lighten the mood so we don't get another scuffle like earlier with Firebrand and the Skrill."

From Hookfang's back, Snotlout starting singing along with the music, with Hookfang singing the support bits.

"I'm on a dragon (I'm on a dragon)  
I'm on a dragon (I'm on a dragon)  
Everybody look at me 'cause I'm flying on a dragon (flying on a dragon)  
I'm on a dragon (I'm on a dragon)  
I'm on a dragon  
Take a good hard look at the motherf***** dragon (dragon, yeah)"

During the song, Tuffnut slid his way next to Hookfang, dancing, braids flinging everywhere.

"I'm on a drag-an  
He's going fast an'  
I got an aerial-themed scarf like Red Baran  
I'm the king of the world, in the sky like Tyr  
If you're on the shore, then you sho' ain't me-er

{Get the f*** up, this dragon's REAL!}

F*** land, I'm on a dragon, motherf*****  
F*** trees, I climb thermals, motherf*****  
I'm in the saddle with my boy, mother f*****  
This dragon roars really loud, motherf*****"

Fizz hit the Stop button on the boombox. "That's, uhhh, very inspiring, guys. Let's get going, though. The sun won't stay up there forever."

Tuffnut said, "Hey, Hookey, I'll give you twenty herring if you do a rendition of 'I Threw It on the Ground' with your rider."

Hookfang grinned wide. His rider did not.

* * *

 **Blooper: That Just Happened**

Toothless warbled and tucked Hiccup's shoulder under his neck. The boy smiled wide and wrapped his arms around the dragon's snout.

Stoick sighed. The way they both looked at him with identical expressions of determination in their green eyes... they would always be two incomplete parts of a greater whole. One was the ax head while the other was the handle. Neither would ever be complete without the other.

The fact that he couldn't relate to his son nor reason with the Night Fury only made it more difficult. Gaining that dragon as a loyal companion was the best thing that ever happened to the boy. It gave him that much-needed confidence that the father had always been trying to draw out all along. Unfortunately, the dragon's influence made Hiccup too brash and stubborn, sometimes.

"Toothless, I hate you so much I love you."

The dragon huffed. Hiccup said, "Toothless says he loves you too, Dad. -We- love you, too. Even if we don't always express it properly."

"Alright, well done!" FizzleMcSchnizzle said as he stepped forward. "Excellent job with the facial expressions, Toothless. You really nailed it that time. Let's call that a wrap for tonight. Oh, and dragons, no more throwing your rider on the ground and shouting, 'I won't be part of this system!' I don't need anyone else joining Snotlout under the recovery tent. Alright? Good! I dunno about you, but-" Fizz let out a yawn, "I ain't no night owl. Or Night Fury."

Toothless snorted and said, "Ha! Good one! Hey, before we go, I got one for the blooper reel."

Hiccup quirked an eye. The camera and lighting crew worked on packing up their equipment. Fizz opened a cooler under the food table to grab an ice cream sandwich. Toothless clicked a claw against the play button of the ubiquitous boombox and some old-timey rock'n'roll music started playing.

As the intro played, everyone suddenly froze. Fizz's jaw fell, as did his ice cream sandwich. Gobber shouted, "NO!" and ran away. Stoick made a mad dash for the boombox. Toothless had a feral glint in his eyes as he scooped up Hiccup. He leaped to intercept Stoick, landing in a pounce. Hiccup scrabbled to get off his dragon, but made no progress as the wings batted at him to keep him aboard.

As he fended off anyone making a mad rush for the boombox, Toothless said, "You all probably guessed this song is dedicated to Hiccup. Here we go.

We're no strangers to love  
You know the rules and so do I  
A full commitment's what I'm thinking of  
You wouldn't get this from any other…uhh, dragon!  
Iiiiiii just wanna tell you how I'm feeling  
Gotta make you understand."

More actors, crewmen, and dragons made a mad dash at the boombox to turn if off. All were sleepy so late at night, though, and were deflected by the hyperactive and nocturnal dragon as he continued to sing without missing a beat. Fizz's charge was halted when he was slammed back by a tail to the chest. He lay sprawled on his back and stared at the heavens shouting, "NOOOOOO! WHYYYYYYYY?!" as Toothless mercilessly continued singing.

"Never gonna give you up  
Never gonna let you down  
Never gonna run around and desert you  
Never gonna make you cry  
Never gonna say goodbye  
Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you"

Finally, someone managed to barrel through an opening left by a charging Skullcrusher and hit the Stop button on the boombox. Everybody instantly relaxed and let out a sigh of relief from wherever Toothless' rampage had deposited them. Hiccup slumped in relief on the dragon's back.

Toothless just shrugged his wings. "Good enough. The song really does get repetitive, anyway. I sure know how to troll people, eh?"

Hiccup straightened in the saddle and smirked. "Oh, sure, but I can easily one-up you."

Toothless chuffed. "Never gonna happen."

Hiccup put on an evil grin. "Oh, Toothless, Toothless, little Toothless. Never-"

"No!"

"Say-"

"Dear god no!"

"Never!"

Toothless flopped to his back. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"


End file.
